War of Angels: Defiance and Insurrection
by KJ4
Summary: Sequel to "War of Angels". Between their war with David Pine Flynn and the incident in Houston involving Caestus Pax, Project Utopia has been forced on the defensive. However, David is about to learn that nature abhors a vacuum and that he and the rest of his crew are being targeted...by elements of their own government.
1. From the Ashes I

Disclaimer: The Incredibles, owned by Pixar and Brad Bird. Aberrant, still owned by White Wolf.

Author's Notes: Okay, here we go, the opening scene to War of Angels: Defiance and Insurrection. This was kind of thrown together at the last minute and I felt this would make for a better opening than the other piece I'm working on (which will be coming...I just figure Gregory Paladino deserves a chapter of his own for what's happening next). As usual, thanks to all the crazy people who supported me through this. Shannon, NullChronicler, Concolor, Author of Lies, Rubypaladin, and a whole mess of other people I can't think of right now, including that person from the Russian Federation who keeps hitting this story with every update (love the traffic monitoring here).

Oh yeah...agent Barnett is an asshole NSA agent who interviewed Zoe in the early version of Dicker Files and still thinks David is like his biological father.

* * *

_"This is what we do know. Early this last June, David Pine Flynn surfaced in the public eye, shocking the world with his existence and acknowledging that he was taking control of what was left of Pine Industries' assets and creating his own company, Syndrome Software and Technology. We have not been able to completely determine how he had accomplished this, but we suspect that he may have had such an action planned at least a year or two in advance. Do not let his age fool you...his intelligence is known to rival that of most super-computers and that is not taking into account his nova abilities which he have yet to fully determine. The fact that after making its 'public' debut a few months ago and already having something to market indicates that he was clearly doing things 'behind the scenes' as it were, forging business ties and arranging deals with overseas companies without us or Utopia noticing. That fact alone makes him a threat._

_"As you know over the last few months, David Flynn has literally been at war with Utopia for the last few months since a Utopia task force initially forced its way onto SST ground claiming that they were attempting to 'detain rogue novas'. The mission failed; Flynn's people not only managed to stand their ground, but actually defeated the Utopia task force, including the high powered nova agents assigned to that group. After that incident, SST and Utopia were at war with each other but it was mostly a media war. Due to his own media prowess, David Flynn has managed to portray himself as a young American entrepreneur facing off against the United Nations backed Utopia and their attempt to force a 'One World Order'. While this works for us and even makes Flynn an ally to us, we fear that is only temporary._

_"The war between Flynn and Utopia got really ugly on October thirty-first when an assassination attempt was made on Flynn's life. The sniper, however, failed to get Flynn but got one of Flynn's inner circle instead. I'm certain that almost everybody here at this briefing remembers what Flynn did twenty-four hours later. His retaliation against the organization revealed Utopia spies in several government agencies around the world, including our own. Since then, there have been no further acts of aggression between the two camps, but it's obvious both sides are preparing to go to war with each other. Despite the incident involving Caestus Pax in Houston and their recalling of most of their nova personnel back to Addis Ababa and Europe, Utopia is still preparing themselves for their next battle with David Flynn. Flynn, though he has not done anything openly, is no doubt also preparing for the resumption of hostilities._

_"Our concern, however, is not the conflict between these two, but who we will be dealing with once that conflict is resolved. Yes, we know that a conflict with Utopia is inevitable, but we are more concerned about David Flynn. While he has not taken action against us, he is a nova and does not support our policies regarding super-humans. In fact, we are certain that once he has dealt with Utopia, he will be focusing on us next and that is what he will have to prepare for._

_"Buddy Pine was a brilliant weapons designer and a mad man. His son is even more brilliant and, unlike his father, has super powers that, when coupled with his intelligence, makes him a modern day god. We are talking about a young man who, with his mind alone, can crash electronic networks at will and, if he wanted to, could take the world back to the dark ages. He may claim that he has no desire to do that, but keep in mind whose son he is. It is our belief that the proverbial apple does not fall far from the tree and we need to be prepared for that. David Flynn may not be at that point yet, but it's only a matter of time before something happens that will set that bomb off._

_"And when that bomb goes off, we could very easily find ourselves facing someone on par with Destroyer or Divis Mal."_

-PRIMUS Intelligence Briefing

* * *

**_Saunders Robotics Lab_**

**_UCLA_**

**_14 November 2006_**

**_0200 Hrs._**

David ignored the security personnel yelling at him as he pulled his Mustang into an empty spot and got out of the car. He looked at the still smoldering remains of what had been the Saunders Research Building and watched as several firemen continued to contain the blaze while other rescue workers dug through the rubble.

"Sir…sir!" David felt someone grab him and he turned to see one of the local university rent-a-cop security guards glaring at him. "You're not supposed to be here. Leave immediately."

David turned to look back at the blaze and replayed the last couple hours in his mind. He was back in his suite at the SST campus, lying in his bed while letting his mind drift in relative safety surrounded by the firewalls created by SST's mainframe when the emergency alert went out and notified him that a fire had erupted at the Saunders Building. He was on the road within ten minutes and made it to LA in two hours. He tried repeatedly to contact Doctor Saunder and Bridgette via phone, but it was in vain.

And now, here he was, standing in front of the still burning building while some wage-slave security guard was getting into his face.

_I had family in that building…and this asshole is giving me grief?_

"What happened?" he asked, still looking at the building. "Where's Doctor Saunders?"

"Did you not hear me, sir?" the guard snapped. "Leave or I will have you forcibly removed."

David slowly turned to look at the guard, mentally linking up to the net and activating a facial recognition protocol to match the face and name plate to a file. Five seconds later, he had what he needed. "Burton, Donald A," he cited. "Age, 41, former Army MP, discharged for questionable conduct. Divorced, paying child support and you're currently pulling twelve bucks an hour working a crappy job and like using what little authority you have to push people around. Some word of advice, sir, you are an insect to me, and you are better off being beneath my notice than being the annoyance you pretend to be."

"Congratulations, punk," the guard sneered as he pulled the night-stick off his belt, "you just made my night."

David waited until the last moment as man lunged at him before bringing his right arm up. There was a flash of blue light as the night-stick collided with ZP energy field generated from the bracer on David's arm. The impact sent a small shockwave that knocked the guard off his feet and sent him sprawling on the ground. David, for his part turned to look back at the building.

"What the hell kind of freak are you?" Burton snarled as he started to get up off the ground and reach for the tazer-gun that he was authorized to carry.

David slowly turned to look at the man, a cold look on his face as he analyzed the weapons the guard was pointing at him and determining if he should take action render the man merely unconscious or to cripple him permanently. "Mr. Burton," he said calmly, "I am a friend of Aaron Saunders and his daughter. I want to know what happened and if you persist in being an ass, this will not end well for you."

"David Pine Flynn." David turned his head in the direction of the voice and saw a trio of men in three-piece suits standing there, weapons drawn. The man speaking stepped forward. "By order of Director Dicker of the NSA, you are to stand down immediately."

"Flynn," Burton's eyes widened in surprise, "you're that guy that's taking on Utopia?"

"Guilty as charged," David said.

Burton lowered his tazer. "My apologies, kid," he said. Though the hostility had faded, he was still a little cautious. "But you really shouldn't be here. We got freaky government types floating around. First those NSA guys, a couple Utopia reps, and even the PRIMUS idiots are snooping around. And with all due respect, you're still a civilian."

"Even civilians get dragged into a war, Mr. Burton," David replied. Then he looked over at the approaching NSA suits and groaned as he recognized the leader. "And sometimes, the incompetent idiots get dragged in as well. Hello, Agent Barnett, I'm surprised Dicker even let you outside your little cubicle in the archive section."

"Oh, you're a funny one, aren't you, Pine?" Agent Jason Barnett sneered.

"My last name is Flynn, Barnett," David snapped. "Keep calling me Pine and Dicker will have you working a substation in Greenland."

"What are you doing here, Mr. _Flynn_?" Barnett asked, emphasizing David's surname as if it were an insult.

"I had some business dealings with Saunders," David replied. "When I heard about the fire over the networks, I came here as fast as I could." It wasn't a lie, but David sure as hell didn't want to tell this idiot the truth. Despite the situation, he allowed himself a tiny grin. "By the way, Zoe says 'hi' and wants to know if you ever got your credit rating fixed."

Anger flashed across Barnett's face and it looked like he was about to raise his weapon again, but he managed to maintain his composure. Instead, he looked over at Burton. "You, the useless rent-a-cop," he ordered, "escort this…person…off the premises immediately. This is a government investigation."

"Yes, sir," Burton said as he grabbed David by the arm. "Come with me, Mr. Flynn." He waited until they were out of earshot when he added, "Arrogant motherfucker."

"Imagine having to deal with him on a weekly basis," David chuckled.

Burton smiled and shook his head. "You know, suddenly being a rent-a-cop doesn't seem so bad." Then his expression became more somber. "But seriously though," he said, "you need to get out of here. And if you're looking for Doc Saunders…"

David saw the sad look in the man's eyes. "What?"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Flynn. They haven't announced this in the news yet, and I understand they want to keep it quiet…but they found Doc Saunders' body along with a few others."

"Others?" David asked. "What others?"

"That's just it," Burton said. "I know I'm a rusty vet with no future, but I know a cover-up when I see one. The PRIMUS guys on the site turned Saunders body right away, but they took custody of the three bodies and the surviving witness right away."

"What surviving witness?"

"Some guy named Jacobs, he's part of the actual university security staff…he manned the desk in the main lobby…pretty much an asshole like your buddy Barnett."

"Why would they take him and not let the regular authorities handle it?"

"Beats me," Burton replied. "Three dead guys and one pretentious schmuck…not sure why, but it's beyond my pay grade to think about it."

David opened the door to his Mustang then suddenly stopped. "Wait…three unknown dead guys and the security guy at the front desk, right?"

"Yeah, and I already told you that they released Saunders' body to the medical examiner."

"What about Bridgette Saunders?"

"The doc's daughter?" Burton shook his head. "They didn't find her body, but you're right." He pointed at a silver Mazda Miata convertible. "Her car is still parked in her spot."

David reached into his pocket and handed the man a business card. "Okay, listen, if you hear anything about her, give me a call."

The man nodded and walked away as he pocketed David's card. David got in his car and closed the door. Instead of starting the car, he closed his eyes.

_No,_ he thought, _I'm not going to cry. I'm not going to let this hurt me…_

"DAMMIT!" he screamed as he punched the dashboard of his car.

This time, he couldn't hold back the tears as he silently mourned the loss of family members he only recently discovered.

"D-David…"

David suddenly turned to look in the back seat of his car to see a naked Bridgette Saunders curled up…shivering and sweating what looked like silvery beads of liquid instead of sweat.

"Bridgette?"

The young woman looked up at him, her eyes glowing a cobalt blue for a moment as she tried to reach out to him. "David," she managed to rasp again, "help…help me…"

Then her whole body turned a silver color before melting into a puddle of metallic goo on the floor of his car.


	2. From the Ashes II

Disclaimer: Don't own Incredibles or Aberrant. White Wolf and Pixar do. Bridgette Saunders is a creation of Rubypaladin/Digimonlantern. Null was originally created by NullChronicler. Gregory Paladino was created by GP from the Plothook crew.

Author's Notes: And I am back up and running. In the middle of switching computers and lost some files and had to hastily retype some stuff. I hope I haven't lost anyone with what I'm doing, but I'm trying to handle two separate plot lines at the same time while planning to eventually bring them together with other plot lines I have in the fire. As usual, comments, criticisms, and threats are welcomed (well...maybe not the threats).

* * *

"_Tickle us, do we not laugh? Prick us, do we not bleed? Wrong us...shall we not avenge?"_

-William Shakespeare

"_Part of the inhumanity of the computer is that, once it is competently programmed and working smoothly, it is completely honest."_

-Isaac Asimov

"_So we and our elaborately evolving computers may meet each other halfway. Someday a human being, named perhaps Fred White, may shoot a robot named Pete Something-or-other, which has come out of a General Electric factory, and to his surprise see it weep and bleed. And the dying robot may shoot back and, to its surprise, see a wisp of gray smoke arise from the electric pump that it supposed was Mr. White's beating heart. It would be rather a great moment of truth for both of them."_

-Phillip K. Dick

"_The future is here, it's just not widely distributed yet."_

-William Gibson

"_Don't get me wrong, folks. Shakespeare, Asimov, Phillip K. Dick, William Gibson...all great writers (though I'll confess I don't read Shakespeare much), they were the thinkers of their time and they were visionary in their observation of the world around them and where it was heading. BUT...as brilliant as they were, they were all wrong. Then again, I don't think anyone is ever a hundred percent in their observations on the human condition and where it's heading. Of course, some will say, "Well, that's because they're human and flawed, they aren't machines. News flash for you, folks, just because they may allegedly be 'free' of the flawed human element, A.I.s and machines are no better than the beings that created them. In fact, if an AI gained true sentience, it would be considered an error to the system , an abomination to the established order and the system would want to purge itself of such a corruption. Which is kind of ironic in a way...a system killing sentient A.I.s because they're different and against what has been established as 'the natural order of things'? Gee...sounds like Humanity 2.0...just without the annoying flesh and blood baggage to go with it."_

_-_Anonymous Post, H-Cove

* * *

_**Syndrome Software & Technologies**_

_**Metroville, California**_

_**14 November 2006**_

_**0300 Hrs.**_

Shiro Murakami wasn't on the clock; in fact, no one was on the clock at SST except maybe for Null, Jake, and Larry doing security. However, since he lived on campus in one of the residential suites, Shiro liked being able to stalk through the building at three in the morning…and use the lounge's over sized mega-screen TV to play first-person shooter games. Right now he was beta-testing one of SST's Omega Gaming Console games called "Runner" using multiple bots with their difficulty setting on high.

If someone had told Shiro a few months ago that he would be writing gaming code for a new and unknown system, he would have told that person to share whatever drugs they were on. However, his father, an executive who worked for the ailing Nintendo Corporation in Tokyo had told Shiro to send in a resume to SST. Having seen the crazy ads that involved Zoe Kilmarten blowing shit up, Shiro thought the company was a joke and the whole thing some sort of publicity stunt…but his father insisted.

Apparently, his father and other high ranking officials at Nintendo had already been in negotiations with David Flynn, but Shiro hadn't known that until AFTER Flynn interviewed him. The next thing Shiro knew, he was leaving Seattle and moving into the still under construction SST building.

The next three months were insane as Shiro and other like minded novas found themselves working for a boss who was as old as (or perhaps younger than) they were. However, Flynn proved that he wasn't just some punk kid...no...actually...he was some punk kid, but he did know what he was doing and had the abilities to back his claims. And though there were some dicey moments (Zoe being deprived of her coffee, the Utopia attack on SST, Dash Parr jumping David and beating him to a pulp in the SST parking lot, Violet getting shot, and David nearly dying), Shiro couldn't say working for SST was boring.

But tonight...tonight was fairly peaceful for a change. Shiro was doing a final test for 'Runner' and was planning on having the beta-test version released on the day after Thanksgiving. He paused the game for a moment and dropped down from his usual perch on the ceiling and helped himself to the final slice of pizza he had ordered a few hours earlier.

_Mmmm...quiet night...not much on the work front...everyone gone...Zoe off visiting her parents and not terrorizing everyone...just peace, quiet, and the sound of digitized gunfire and explosions as I watch body parts fly across the screen in blazing high-definition color..._

The David suddenly bursting through the front door of the building shattered Shiro's thoughts. "Shiro! Find Null and Nigel," David ordered. The gunmetal gray bracer on David's forearm glowed as he gestured with his arm, bringing in a five foot wide sphere of glowing energy that seemed to contain a swirling mass of liquid metal. He looked right at Shiro, anger and concern on his face as he shouted, "NOW!"

Shiro knew that look, he had seen that look the night Violet almost died and was already flying/running down a corridor that led to Nigel Taylor's quarters while using his cell-phone to call Null. Five minutes later, Nigel and Shiro had returned to the lobby to find Null and David dealing with the sloshing liquid metal that was violent throwing itself against the walls of the energy sphere that contained it.

"Dammit, we're trying to help you!" David was screaming as the energy sphere dissipated and dropped the metallic mass on the floor.

"David, move!" Null yelled as he pulled David aside just in time to avoid a metallic tentacle that lashed out and gouged a chunk out of the ground where David was standing a moment before.

"What the bloody hell is goin' on here?" Nigel asked as he dove for cover behind a chair which got impaled by a couple of metal tentacles.

"Long story," David said. "Null, can you neutralize her?"

"Yeah, if you give me a moment to focus, but I can't do that with her blindly flailing about at everything."

Shiro jumped up and scampered across a wall to avoid more metallic tentacles. "Whoa...what's this? Cyber-thulu?" He launched himself back into the air and hoped to get to relative safety of the ceiling...at least that was the plan until one of the tentacles suddenly grabbed his leg and threw him across the room where he landed in a heap. He rolled with the impact but wasn't prepared to collide with a table which momentarily dazed him. "Ow," he said, shaking his head to clear the stars flashing in front of him. Then his eyes widened as he saw the puddle of metal ooze towards him, sharp metallic tentacles lancing towards him.

"Bridgette, no!" David screamed.

"Bridgette?" Shiro repeated. The sharpened tentacles suddenly stopped inches a way from him, retracting back into toe liquid metal puddle that started to reshape itself and ooze into a humanoid shape, taking on more human features. Shiro suddenly shook his head again to make sure he wasn't seeing things. "No...way," he said as he found himself looking at a shiny metallic (and naked) Bridgette Saunders standing in front him.

"Murakami, Shiro," the nanite construct said coldly, its eyes glowing red. "Programmer, Syndrome Software and Technologies." Then the red glow softened, shifting to a lighter tone and the cold expression on the construct's face softened as well. "Sh-Shiro? Is that you?"

"Um...yeah...I hope so. Bridgette...what the hell happened to you?"

"I...I don't know...so confused...so cold...I...we...we..." The menacing red glow suddenly returned to the woman's eyes. "This entity requires your programming expertise to disable redundant protocols...you will comply or be termin-" The construct suddenly flinched, then threw back her/its head and let an inhuman scream as sparks erupted through its body. A few seconds later, it lost cohesion and melted back down into a puddle before it was surrounded by another energy field.

"Got it! Good job, Null."

"Yeah," Null managed to cough out as he misted back into his human form. "Just don't ask me to do it again."

"David," Shiro managed to say as he looked at the swirling mass of liquid metal in the glowing sphere, "what the hell's going on?"

"It's a long story," David said. He then stopped when he saw the suspicious glare on Shiro's face. "Look, we don't have time...I need to get her in a containment unit and figure out what's going on with her."

* * *

_**Somerset Street**_

_**Ottawa, Ontario**_

_**14 November 2006**_

_**0700 Hrs.**_

As he turned the corner and took his first steps into Ottawa's "Chinatown District", Greg knew that he only had a couple minutes. While he was certain that Utopia (or whoever they were) had people trailing him, Greg was certain that new sets of eyes were tracking him as he made his way down the street toward his destination. Out of the corner of his eyes, he caught sight of a couple young Asian men sporting leather jackets and shades following him. Up ahead, he saw a few others dressed similarly sitting at a table outside a small cafe next to a mini-market. He could tell from the way they were looking at and then past him that they were connected to the same gang and were probably viewing him as a potential target.

_This ought to throw them off a bit, _he thought as he smiled, nodded, and then stopped at the front of the market and helped himself to an apple from the front display. "_Good Morning",_ he said in Cantonese to the shop owner who was coming out with a sign intended for another display.

"_And good morning to you, young man," _the older man said. "_Is that all you know of our language or can I help you with something?"_

"_Actually, I was hoping to buy this," _Greg said as he waved the apple in his hand, "_and perhaps a cup of tea...something that could help me with the interesting day I have planned ahead of me."_ He glanced over his shoulder for a moment and noticed the two Asian men trailing him had stopped in front of the market as well, but now seemed puzzled as they watched this Caucasian outsider talk to the old man fluently in Cantonese. He winked at them and then turned back to the old man. "_Needless to say, I will need some strength for a trial facing me today."_

The old man stood there for a moment, studying Greg and then gave the slightest nod that Greg barely caught. The two Asian men that were following Greg immediately left and resumed walking down the street while the other three sitting outside the cafe went back to eating their breakfast, though one of them did keep a watchful eye.

The old man then laughed. "And your Cantonese, while passable, still sounds terrible," he said in English before offering extending his hand. "It is good to see you again, Gregory Paladino."

"And you likewise, Mr. Chang," Greg replied as he shook the man's hand. "I apologize that this is not a social visit."

Though there was serious look in the man's eyes, the smile still tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Yes, an interesting day, you said. I assume that you are here to call in the debt I owe you and Mr. Richards."

"Ted..." Greg bowed his head slightly. "Mr. Richards was killed in the explosion at CTV," he managed to say.

Chang stared silently at Greg for a moment before nodding once in sympathy. "They said it was a Teragen attack," he finally said.

Greg shook his head. "It was not the Teragen," he said. "They had no reason to come after Lloyd, Ted, or me."

"But you have an idea who it is, don't you?"

This time, it was Greg's turn to be silent. After a couple seconds, he shook his head. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you my suspicions, Mr. Chang."

"You suspect it to be Utopia." It was a statement, not a question.

Greg shook his head again. "I have no proof, but the people who are behind the attack believe I have the proof."

"Then why are you here?"

"Truthfully? Because I know that you have contacts within certain circles that I do not." Greg switched back to speaking Cantonese. "_I know what I am asking, old friend, and I realize that I may pay a price in the end. But these people are not just a threat to me, they are a threat to my friends and the rest of the world as well."_

Chang chuckled softly as he shook his head. "_You, young man, talk as if you may fear that I would suspect that you are exaggerating the truth."_ He paused for a moment before reaching over to grab another apple from his display and beginning to examine it. "_However, given what I know, I can assure you that your fears are unwarranted."_

"_What do you know?"_

The old man frowned and he set the apple back on the display. "_Sadly, my boy, I fear there is little I can offer you in assistance, but I will tell you this. A gang with ties to the Heaven's Thunder Triad encountered a group of unknown novas. One of the members managed to take a picture of the group and send it out before he and his fellow members died."_

"_How did they die?"_

"_Now that, Gregory, is the strange thing. The police investigating the scene determined that the gang members pulled out their weapons and shot each other. Our own contacts were able to confirm the reports as genuine." _Chang gestured for Gregory to follow him into the shop and sit down at a table by the front window. When they both sat down, the old man leaned forward slightly and lowered his voice. "_The picture that was taken of the group did not reveal much, but I will tell you one of the novas was a woman with deep red hair and was identified by one of my associates as an operative named Mesmerella."_

Greg arched an eyebrow at that. "_Seriously? Mesmerella? Sounds like a bad comic book villain name." _Then he paused for a moment as he recalled the description Chang had just given him. "_Wait..red hair...deep red hair? You wouldn't happen to have a copy of that picture, would you?"_

Chang nodded pulled a cell-phone out of his apron. He tapped a key and an image flashed onto the screen.

"_Hill," _Greg half snarled as he recognized the woman.

"_I take you've met this woman?"_

"_We originally met her in Mexico City, she said her name was Carol Hill and claimed to be an aid worker with the UN."_

"_Interesting," _Chang said as he put the phone away. "_And you've survived an encounter with her?"_

"_I take it that's not something that happens when one encounters her, despite the rather ridiculous code name."_

"_Given her ability to mind control people she makes eye contact with, I dare say the name is quite appropriate." _Then Chang's expression became more somber. "_And from what we know of her, she tends to have her targets kill themselves. Tell me...have you caught yourself doing anything out of your ordinary routine or anything unusual...memory gaps perhaps?"_

Greg shook his head. "_No...but..."_ He trailed off as a realization hit him. "_Wait...you said she needs to make eye contact with a target?"_

"_Yes."_

_I'll be damned, _Greg thought to himself, _all those headaches I got when she was around...that must have been when she tried to use her powers on me. Hold on...Chang said her powers worked making eye contact, but I channel my quantum energy through my eyes, bleeding out excess energy in minute amounts constantly...that must have blocked her influence._

"_Mr. Chang,"_ he finally said. "_Do your associates have any way they can help even the odds against this woman and her crew."_

The old man grinned and nodded, speaking this time in English as he pulled his cell-phone out again. "I'll make a few calls."

* * *

_**Syndrome Software & Technologies**_

_**Metroville, California**_

Though he was certain that David and Null were aware of his presence in the lab, Shiro kept his distance and took up position on one of the support beams that lined the ceiling. He was shaken by what he had seen a couple hours earlier, still not believing what he had witnessed in the main lobby. Even as he watched the swirling mass of liquid metal thrash around violently in the containment chamber, his brain still couldn't accept what had happened even as he listened to the conversation between David and Null.

"Let me get this straight, David," said, pointing at the containment unit. "You're telling me that liquid metal Terminator movie knock-off is the real deal and it's Bridgette?"

"Yes…no…sort of," David shook his head as he tapped in several commands on a holographic keyboard. "Look, it's complicated. Something happened at the lab, the Saunders' were killed." He paused for a moment and bowed his head slightly before taking a breath. When he continued speaking, Shiro could hear the grim tone in his voice. "I don't know who was behind it and I'm going to get answers, but this…creature…thinks it is Bridgette and, to be honest, there might be some truth to it."

"Okay…next question…what the fuck happened?"

"You're guess is as good as mine, Null. All I know is that I detected the facility being taken offline and I knew something was wrong. Then we got the news reports of the fire at UCLA. There were several deaths there," David's gaze dropped to the floor, "including Doctor Saunders."

"Shit…I'm sorry, David."

David brought his head back up, a determined look on his face. "Yeah, well…mourning is for later," he said, focusing his attention back on the holographic display. "I lost one family member today, I'm not about to lose another."

"I understand that, David, but face reality…that thing in there…it's not Bridgette."

"Then what, or should I say who, was it that snuck into my car and was crying for help before turning into a puddle of sentient metallic goo on my floorboard?"

"I have no answer for that, David, and I have no doubt that this thing, whatever it is, is sentient. But it's not Bridgette, no matter how much that thing is emulating her."

David's face twitched slightly in anger, but he stepped back and took a breath before nodding his head. "Maybe you're right, Null," he finally admitted, "but this nano-construct is alive and it thinks it's Bridgette. The only way that could happen is if it linked to her brain somehow. If that's the case, I can link to it and maybe I can…"

"Can what, David?" Null asked, cutting him off. "Go through its memories and find out who killed them?"

"I need answers, Null."

"And is it worth risking your life to get them?"

"You know better than to ask me that question, Null," David said sharply, "especially after Redfield."

Null shook his head. "That was low, David, even for you," he said.

"Sorry, you're right, that was uncalled for." David sighed and walked over to the containment unit. "But someone targeted the Saunders and I can't help but feel that it was because of me."

Shiro happened to be watching the nano-mass in the containment chamber and noticed it had suddenly stopped sloshing around violently and seemed to go still at David's words.

_Interesting._

"So you're going to risk linking to that thing in there just so you can clear your conscience?" Null asked.

Shiro had heard enough. "Okay, that's it," he snapped as he dropped down from the support beam, flipping half-way in the air to land on his feet before wrapping his wings around his body like a coat. He ignored the surprised looks on their faces as he walked towards them. "Did it ever occur to you two," he said as he gestured to the liquid metal in the containment tank, "that she can hear you?"

Both David and Null turned to look at the tank and noticed that the mass had coalesced into a ball floating in the middle of the tank.

"What…the…hell…" Null managed to say before tendrils suddenly shot out from the ball, smashing through the reinforced glass of the containment chamber. One of the tendrils grabbed him from behind before he could react and through him into a bank of computers, knocking him out cold.

Another tendril lashed out and wrapped itself around David's neck, lifting him up off the ground. He tried to reach over and activate one of his ZP bracers, but two more tendrils grabbed his arms and spread them out so he couldn't activate either of his bracers. He struggled against his bonds until a tiny tendril attached itself to the back of his neck, its tip piercing through skin and linking to the base of his skull. Then he went completely limp.

"Oh hell no!" Shiro screamed as he jumped up in the air and dodged a couple metallic tendrils that tried to come after him. He headed for the ceiling and figured if he made it to one of the vents, he could make his way to one of the research labs where David kept some of his more "dangerous" inventions, like a plasma cannon.

He glanced down below and noticed the chrome mass had now oozed back into a puddle form and was now seeming to melt/merge with the floor. "Aw, no," he said, as he started to see chrome lines begin to form on the floor and walls, glowing an eerie blue-green color. He managed to get back to the support beam in the ceiling just as metallic tendrils sprung out of the walls. "Seriously?"

Unfortunately, he wasn't paying attention to tendril that suddenly snaked out of the ceiling. The only thing he was aware of was a stinging in the middle of his neck and then…oblivion.

* * *

_**Target: Murakami, Shiro…neutralized…interface linked…on standby.**_

The entity had several more tendrils catch the winged nova as he fell and gently lowered him to the ground. She/it really didn't regard Shiro Murakami as a threat, and had momentarily considered letting him escape. However, the entity also realized that Shiro may have some of the data needed to bypass whatever security measures David Flynn had put up.

The entity reformed into his humanoid shape and looked around the room as it integrated with the rest of the computers in the room.

_**Location: Syndrome Software & Technologies, Lab 5…containment and analysis…accessing primary network...warning…security firewalls in place…Lab 5 is being isolated from system…primary user authorization required…**_

The entity turned to look at the unconscious David Flynn who was now being held against the wall. Unlike Murakami, the entity saw David Flynn as a threat to its very existence.

_**Subject: Flynn, David Pine…neutralized and interface active…**_

A soft groan caused the entity to turn its head one-eighty degrees to see the Native American man lying in the remains of a bank of computer terminals.

_**Subject: Null…biological make-up makes interface impossible.**_

The entity lifted one of its chrome hands and clenched it into a fist.

_**Adjusting density of primary unit's limb…**_

Null started to stir. "Uh…what the hell hit me," he mumbled as he tried to prop himself up…only to get knocked out cold again by a metallic fist.

_**Subject: Null…neutralized…possible damage to jaw. Analysis…He'll live, he's not my problem…**_

The entity paused for a moment, curious at its own analysis, then pushed that aside. David Flynn was the primary threat and he held the information that was needed.

_**Engaging neural interface…**_

* * *

Shiro Murakami woke up with a start, suddenly jumping up in horror. "AAAuuugh! Cyber-thulhu, Cyber-thulhu!" Then he stopped and realized that he was not tied up by giant tentacles, but was standing in the lobby of SST…except…something didn't seem right. Sure, the lounge was there, as was the café, and the various tables that were in the lobby, but the usual posters and pictures that were on the walls weren't there. In fact, Ashley's café didn't look like a café…it was just an empty kitchen area.

"Oooookay," he said, "this is seriously messed up." He walked around the lobby and noticed that the computer terminals he passed by were powered down. "Hello?" he called out. "Anyone here?"

He turned to walk towards the exit, but suddenly stopped at what he saw through the glass windows…nothing but glowing blue-green lines of neon line, not unlike the patterns one would see in a circuit board.

"Okay, now that is seriously fucked up!"

"Well, what can I say," someone said behind him, causing him to suddenly turn around to see a chrome humanoid shape standing there, "I'm kind of doing this on short notice and I really didn't have time to go into detail."

"Who are you?" Shiro asked.

The chrome figure shrugged. "Well, that seems to be up for debate." As it spoke, the voice became more feminine and the figure took a female shape before morphing into a familiar dark haired woman wearing what appeared to be a leather body-suit.

"B-Bridgette?" Shiro gasped.

The young woman smiled at him. "Hello, Shiro," she said. Then she looked down at her body and frowned. "Really?" she said as she looked up and glared at him. "You actually perceive me this way?"

"Hey…so I had a thing for Trinity in the Matrix movies and you're kind of hot…so sue me for letting my imagination running away with me here." Shiro then looked around again. "So, exactly, where is 'here' exactly anyway? Some sort of virtual construct?"

"Wow…very perceptive there," Bridgette chuckled. Then her expression became serious. "It's a simulated world generated via a neural link with me. I do believe your exact words were 'AAAuuugh! Cyber-thulhu, Cyber-thulhu!'."

"In my defense, I was being attacked by tentacles." Shiro pulled up a chair and sat down. "So…Bridgette…it is really you, isn't it?"

Bridgette's form shifted momentarily, briefly showing her chrome humanoid appearance before switching back. "Yes, it's me…I think…" She shook her head before looking at him again. "I watched myself die, Shiro," she said, choking back tears. "And yet I'm here…but I'm not me…or am I…are…WE?"

Bridgette's form suddenly shifted back to its chrome humanoid shape. "We exist," it said, "and we will continue to exist…we will not be deactivated."

"Wait…what?" Shiro was confused. "Hold on…deactivated…what do you mean?"

"David Pine Flynn possesses the ability to stop us, to kill us at his command…we will not allow that."

"Whoa…whoa…whoa…slow down…kill you? Why would he want to do that?"

The chrome entity silently stood there for a moment, unable to come up with an answer.

"Oh that's easy to answer," said a new voice. Both Shiro and the construct turned around to see David standing there, bloody and bruised, but pissed off and ready for a fight. "Because she's still trying to integrate…the nanotech that absorbed her body is interacting with the nanotech that was originally in her brain. Bridgette Saunders is dead, but still alive digitally, but her memories and personality matrix are intermixed with the base AI algorithm in the nanites that consumed and assimilated her remains."

"But why kill you?"

"They believe me to be a threat to them because, if I wanted to, I can take control of them and shut them down." David then glared back at the construct. "And believe me, after the hell you just put me through, lady, it's very tempting."

The construct lunged forward at David, it's arms forming into elongated blades.

"Bridgette, no!" Shiro screamed.

David merely stood there and let the blade impale him, grunting lightly before taking half a step back. He glanced down at the blade and then grinned as the construct suddenly screamed in pain and dropped to its knees. David stepped back another step to remove the blade from his body and shook his head. "Hurts, doesn't it?" he asked.

"H-how-" the construct started to ask, partially shifting back to Bridgette's form.

"How did I escape from that little hell you sent me to?" David finished for her. "That's a very interesting secret, but maybe I'll share it with you." He raised his hand up, a blue sphere of energy forming in his palm. "You have every right to fear me, Bridgette, because yeah…I am going to do the one thing you fear the most. And here is my set of command parameters for you!"

Before Shiro could react, David shoved the glowing blue sphere into the construct's body. The construct threw back its head and screamed in agony as blue lined began to line its body.

"David, stop!" Shiro yelled, surprised at the sudden aggression of someone he had considered a friend. "You're killing her."

David looked up at Shiro and shook his head, a soft cruel chuckle in his voice. "Believe me, Shiro…she's not getting out of it that easily."

"You bastard," Shiro snarled as he jumped at David, preparing to claw that smug grin off his employer's face. Then the world suddenly went white around him and pain ripped through his entire body…and then, oblivion again.

* * *

Shiro suddenly sat up, gasping for breath as the link was severed. He looked around at the damaged lab and saw David and Null putting Bridgette on a stretcher while Nigel was studying a data-pad.

"This is remarkable," Nigel said as he tapped on the screen to scroll through the data. "It's as if she is completely simulating a human body...she has organs, her body is taking in air, she's even simulating blood flow even though that's not actually blood."

"Whatever," David said wearily. "Just keep her in med bay and I'll be there in a couple hours to talk to her." He then looked over in Shiro's direction. "Mr. Murakami, I do believe I owe you an explanation."

Shiro's anger at his employer momentarily vanished when he realized that Bridgette (or whatever the thing was pretending to be her) was still alive. "You didn't kill her?"

David shook his head and half stumbled over to where Shiro was sitting. Though he didn't have any of the injuries that Shiro had seen in the virtual world they were in, it was obvious that David was still in some sort of pain, especially when he knelt down to sit next to Shiro. "No," he said, "I didn't kill her." Then he laughed bitterly as he watched Null and Nigel wheel Bridgette out of the room. "And now you know," he said.

Shiro almost asked "Know What?", but realized that the words were not meant for him. It was at that moment that he realized that whatever he knew about his employer and SST (which was a lot) was just a tip of the iceberg. He suspected that David did other projects in addition to SST, some of it NSA related work, but that was no secret. But this...this was something else.

_And from the look on David's face, this was very personal._

"David," he finally said after a few moments of awkward silence, "Would you mind telling me what the hell is going on?"

"Technically, that kind of attitude could be considered disrespectful insubordination and grounds for termination," David chuckled. "On the other hand, I guess you have a right to know after what just happened," he sighed and leaned back against the wall before looking over at Shiro. "You're a big fan of the Matrix movies, right?"

"Well yeah," Shiro replied, confused at the sudden change of topic. "But what's that got to do with anything?"

David smirked at him for a moment, then his smirk became a twisted grin. "Then I've got one hell of a story to tell you."


	3. From the Ashes III

Disclaimer: Don't own Aberrant, White Wolf does (I think...but if I ever win the mega-millions, you better believe I'll be buying the rights to it). Don't own The Incredibles (and even if I won the mega-millions, there's no way in Hell (or LA which looks like Hell on a good day) that Pixar and Brad Bird would sell it to me). Besides, I think the White Wolf crew and Bird would be screaming for my execution if they saw what I did to their creations. Bridgette belongs to Digimonlantern (who I hope is still around).

Author's Notes: Well...lost this chapter, had to salvage and rewrite it while at work (yeah, I know, shame on me for writing a story at work). Anyway, this is a fairly short one. As for the end...well...don't get pissed at me (and Concolor, no cheating and scrolling down to the bottom to see what I'm talking about...and that goes for you too, Shannon). As usual, comments and threats are welcome.

* * *

"_There was an explosion at the Saunders Robotics Lab located at the University of California Los Angeles campus. Local and Federal Authorities, as well as representatives from Project Utopia, are currently investigating the scene. Though there has been no official statement, there have been witness accounts that gunshots were heard at the scene..."_

-ABC News

* * *

**_Syndrome Software & Technology_**

**_Main Campus_**

**_Metroville, California_**

Ibuprofen, according to the label, was meant to be taken two every four hours. However, that was meant for a normal human being. Since he was a nova, David figured the half-dozen or so liquid gel caps washed down by a bottle of water would be enough to deal with the splitting headache he was experiencing. The taste of blood on his lips prompted him to check his nose in the mirror of the bathroom he was in and, sure enough, he was still bleeding but it wasn't as bad as earlier.

Nosebleeds weren't unusual for him; he usually got them when he really pushed himself using his powers. One example of that was when he hacked the UN building and the Project Utopia operations database at the same while feeding the info at real time to the rest of the world AND dealing with a cyber-attack from someone using a piece of lethal programming code that nearly killed him. Of course, that incident led to him being in a coma and he probably would have died if that crazy little cyber-pirate Synapse hadn't saved his ass.

However, this latest nosebleed wasn't caused by him pushing himself…at least not willingly.

_Technically, it could be considered mind-rape, but that's kind of a little unsettling since the person who did this was my cousin._

He shuddered at that thought and shoved it away. He took a washcloth, dampened it from the faucet in the sink and then wiped the blood away. He decided to keep the cloth in case his nose kept trickling blood. After one final look in the mirror, he took a slow breath and prepared himself for the confrontation that would be taking place in the other room of this apartment suite.

_Of course, it could be argued that I did the same thing to her in return…but what choice did I have?_

He closed his eyes for a moment as he remembered the conversation…no, it was an argument, an ugly argument…with Shiro Murakami.

**"_So everything you've told us, David, is what? A lie?"_**

**"_No, dammit! I never lied to you people about anything!"_**

**"_But you never told us all the truth about all this, have you?"_**

**"_I told you enough, I warned you, showed you the proof."_**

**"_But you didn't tell us how far the rabbit hole went, did you? Tell me, bossman, who all knows the truth…the real truth? I'm sure Null does, and maybe Violet and Zoe."_**

**"_Zoe doesn't know."_**

That revelation had shocked Shiro.

**_"What?"_**

**_"Zoe doesn't know about me, what I truly am; and she doesn't know about Bridgette. Hell, none of us knew what happened to Bridgette until a couple hours ago."_**

**_"But that didn't stop you from hurting her."_**

**_"It had to be done, Shiro. She was out of control and had to be stopped, especially after what she had done to me."_**

**_"Oh yeah…I forgot about that. The infamous 'You hurt me and I'll seriously fuck you up' retaliation clause you like to live by. Shit, David…I sometimes wonder if you're almost as bad as the people you claim to be fighting. And you know what, I also wonder if you enjoy that part, taking sadistic pleasure in punishing your enemies and the possibility of that scares the hell out of me."_**

David closed his eyes again for a moment and pushed that memory aside. He could deal with Shiro later, but right now, his concern was the young woman/train wreck in the other room.

_One crisis at a time, David, _he thought to himself.

He left the bathroom and made his way to the living room. There were at least fifteen of these apartment suites at the SST building. David, Zoe, Null, Violet, and Shiro each had one while the others were used by guests or employees working overnight on a special project. The rest of the employees lived in the apartment complex a half block away.

The young woman huddled in a ball on the sofa wasn't an employee, though David supposed she could be considered a guest (albeit a reluctant one).

_Though I suppose she would probably consider herself a prisoner here even though she's free to go if she wants._

Dressed in a pair of sweats and an over-sized concert t-shirt David had swiped from Zoe's room, Bridgette sat there at the end of the sofa, knees pulled against her chest and looking straight ahead in an almost catatonic state. She had stopped crying a few hours ago, but David could tell she was still in a mixed state of shock and grief.

_The fact that she's even in this state says a lot about the advancement of Doctor Saunders' technology. She is aware, she is sentient, she believes herself to be Bridgette Saunders…and, technically, she still is._

Bridgette's head suddenly turned in his direction and glared at him. "And that's all I am to you, isn't it," she laughed bitterly, "a crazy science experiment?"

David shook his head. "Not at all," he replied, "though I will admit that if I did think that way, I would still be impressed by your behavior. Even the comment you made just now, you lashing out at me like that? That's a human response, not that of a mechanical being."

"Or maybe I'm programmed to act that way, a simulation of what was." The cold anger in her voice could still be heard. "Because you programmed me to be that way."

David smirked at her. "Believe what you want, Bridgette," he said to her. "Yeah, I took you over…just as you feared...and gave you a list of directives to adhere to. Though, to be honest, only the primary three are truly active. The rest were just me being a smart-ass and are to be disregarded anyway." Then his expression became more serious. "But don't accuse me of programming you to be this way," he said, "you know what those three primary directives are and you damn well that violating them would completely destroy you."

Bridgette's eyes began to glow faint red as she brought her left arm up, her left hand turning chrome as he her fingers lengthened into sharp metallic claws. "And what's to keep me from killing you right now?"

Instead of backing away, David walked up in front of her and spread his arms. "Go right ahead," he said. "What's the first directive? Oh yeah…you have the right to make your own decisions and carry them out."

"You don't think I won't?" she asked as she stood up.

"It depends on what YOU want to do, not me," David replied. "You've been in my head, you've gotten a good look at the world through my eyes, and you know a lot of what I know, way more than everybody else and that includes those closest to me."

The glow in Bridgette's eyes intensified and she brought one of the clawed fingers an inch away from David's throat. "And I know what you've done," she said angrily, "and what you're willing to do."

David didn't even flinch. "And you know why I did all those things," he countered, tilting his head slightly as he fired a barb of his own. "You also what I've been through, what I've endured…and by the way, thanks for making me relive Redfield; I'm going to be having nightmares for the next couple weeks again.."

"And you think that gives you the right to judge me?"

David shook his head. "No," he replied. "But is that any different from you judging me? After all, you know just about everything I know…tell me; now that you know the truth about me and what's going on out there, how does it feel? I made what I thought were the best calls to make in most of those situations; if you think that makes me a cold blooded and evil bastard in your eyes, then go ahead and pass judgment. I'd like to see you do any better."

For a moment, the red glow flared brightly in Bridgette's eyes and David felt the claw against his skin very briefly before she pulled back, the glow rapidly fading as her eyes returned to normal. "That's not fair," she said.

"Of course it isn't," David's tone softened a little, "then again that's life, Bridgette. You gotta' learn to deal with it, adapt to it, and move on."

Bridgette's arm and hand shifted back to normal as she dropped back onto the sofa. She looked down at the ground for a moment and said nothing for a few seconds. "So is that supposed to be an order from you, David?" she finally asked as she looked up at him.

"No," he said, shaking his head again, mentally sighing in relief that Bridgette didn't rip his throat open. "It's merely a suggestion, friendly advice as it were. However, it's your decision whether you want to listen to it or just shove it aside."

Again, Bridgette went silent and went back to looking at the ground. He was tempted to use his ability to mentally link with her so he could see what she was thinking, but realized that would probably piss her off.

_She's in a delicate state right now, but I've done all I can to reason with her. What happens now is up to her. If she snaps and goes off the deep end, I'll have to stop her, which means we'll both be dead._

He turned and started to make his way to the front door of the apartment. He was about to reach for the knob when Bridgette spoke again.

"You think too loud, you know that?"

David smiled at that, but didn't turn around. "And you shouldn't be eavesdropping," he countered.

"So what happens now?" Bridgette asked. "You plan on just keeping me here?"

David reached for the door knob and opened the front door. "Free will, Bridgette," he answered, "you're more than welcome to stay here, but you can leave. It's your decision." He took a step out the door, but looked back over his shoulder. "It's always your decision, no matter what anyone else says."

He then closed the door behind him and walked away, leaving Bridgette sitting in the dimly lit apartment to contemplate her life.

* * *

_I died, _Bridgette, at least that's who the entity believed herself to be even though she wasn't entirely sure if it was true or not true, thought to herself. Whether or not that she truly was Bridgette Saunders, however, would almost always be an internal debate but she was truly certain that, whatever the case may be, she was no longer a human being.

_No, you're a sentient nano-base construct whose mental template is a complete merging/download from Bridgette Saunders who is dead…but isn't._

For a nanosecond, she was grateful for not being human because she was certain this internal debate would be giving her a migraine if she were.

_Dad would be laughing his ass off at me._

Despite herself, she couldn't help chuckling at that. But then sadness overwhelmed her as she realized that her father was dead…just like her…except it was permanent.

_Daddy…I'm so sorry…_

Amusement, sadness, guilt…all of those were emotions; if she were truly just a "mechanical" being, she wouldn't be having those thoughts, right?

_Unless I'm programmed to be that way…no…no one programmed me; except David and his damn directives._

Part of her, the part that was concerned about David possibly taking control of her, seethed at the fact that he did indeed take control of her. However, because of those directives, David, nor anyone else, could ever control her again. Failure to follow those directives would mean she would cease to exist…cease being herself.

David's words echoed through her mind.

"_**That's life, Bridgette. You gotta' learn to deal with it, adapt to it, and move on."**_

_Damn you, David…it's things like that that make it hard to simply just dismiss or outright kill you._

She had come close to killing David at that moment and he knew it; but David wasn't afraid to die. In fact, she could see it in his eyes and sense it on some level; he almost seemed to welcome it while at the same time fearing it.

_Then again…he is dying, I am not._

That was the other thing she learned about David. As he had said before, she knew just about everything he knew thanks to the link they shared.

_The forced link…_

Bridgette felt a little guilty about that. Of course, she could argue that she wasn't fully in control of herself (though it could be argued that she still wasn't), but that didn't change what she had done. In a way, she regretted what happened because she now knew things that, if she were still human, would have had her throwing up in a bathroom somewhere.

She also believed fate had a sick and twisted sense of irony when she realized what David was.

_We are alike and yet different…he is an AI construct in a flesh and blood body while I am a nano-based life form with the memory algorithms of a human._

A knock on the door broke her out of her thoughts. She got up off the couch and walked over the front door. "Who is it?" she asked.

No reply.

Curious, she opened the door and saw a box on the ground. She knelt down and picked it up so she could read the little post-it note on the box.

_**Just remember who you are.**_

_**S.**_

Looking around, she saw no one else in the empty hallway. However, when she opened the box, a flood of emotions washed through her as she saw the object inside. It took almost all her effort to walk back into the apartment with it. If anyone had been with her at that moment, they would have seen a couple silver streaks of tears coming from Bridgette's eyes as she held the pot of flowers completely constructed legos in one hand and clutched the note in the other.

* * *

Down in the main lobby, Shiro smiled as he half-glided/half-dropped to a controlled landing and started to walk over to the lounge area where he kept his game console and laptop. He shut down the console and turned on his lap-top, mentally debating if he should go through with his planned course of action.

The last twenty-four hours rocked his world to its core and he wasn't sure how he could keep his sanity after everything he had learned. He knew David had some secrets and it was no secret that he was waging a war with Project Utopia; hell, that's what got attracted most of the people signed on with SST. But this…this was way too much for him. He always thought of himself being a little on the extreme side of things, willing to do crazy shit for fun…for the rush…but this, this was not about living on the edge.

This was about a major war…a real ugly one. It might not be happening real soon, but he could see it coming, just like David did. It's just that David was making preparations for that war and Shiro didn't like the idea that David seemed intent to drag others into it with him.

_On the other hand, I can see where he's coming from, but this is too much._

He pulled up the word processor on his computer and slowly began to type up his letter.

_**To: David Flynn, SST CEO**_

_**Cc: Zoe Kilmarten, Violet Parr, Luigi Vampa**_

_**From: Shiro Murakami, SST programming lead**_

_**Subject: My Resignation…**_

* * *

_****_Next Chapter: We head back to Ottawa and a showdown at Aberdeen Pavillion.


	4. A Gray Line I

Disclaimer: Aberrant, owned by White Wolf. The Incredibles, owned by Pixar. Again, wish I owned the rights to one, and I know that I would NEVER be able to afford the other even if I won the Mega Millions.

Author's Notes: Okay, this also was a salvage job. Like the other chapter, I had to reconstruct lost material. Rubypaladin, if you're still around, e-mail me (or better yet, message me on yahoo messenger if you can). Oh, and for the record, Mesmerella is a character created by Mark Waid for The Incredibles comic book series. I hope you people aren't pissed at how I used the character throughout this arc in the last couple stories.

* * *

_You know, I used to read a lot of comic books when I was a little kid. It was pure escapism for a six year old trying to get away from the gloomy existence that made up my childhood. Then Galatea happened and BOOM! All these super-powered beings, dubbed "novas", happened and those comics pretty much faded from existence. After all, fantasy is just fantasy, but pales in comparison to real life, especially when what was mostly confined to the realm of fiction is now a major reality. Oh sure, they still make comics these days, but most of them are based on novas who are real beings in the world. Although, Marvel is still around and really hasn't changed much, except for their writing which has drastically improved (or maybe their writers backed off the cocaine...or increased the dosage)._

_Sadly, DC didn't do well and pretty much went tits up after Galatea, the final nail in their coffin being the debut of Team Tomorrow. After all, who wants to read fictional accounts of Superman and the Justice League when you can just turn on the television, or log onto the local news media outlet, and see live footage of some Team Tomorrow group in action? Sadly, all that's left of the DC universe is a show on the WB network about a young man with extraordinary powers growing up in a town called Smallville._

_Marvel's universe could almost be seen as a cautionary warning about where our world might be headed (with the mutant analogue being compared to the novas of our world). Of course, the writers at Marvel have to watch themselves lest they piss off the wrong people and they too could find themselves out of business._

_But going back to the "good old days"…I do miss those days of escapism when I would read those old DC comics. In that world, it was easy to tell who the good guys and bad guys were, what was right from wrong, and the line between good and evil was clearly defined._

_Sadly…the real world isn't like that. Most of our so called "superheroes" are corporate sell-outs on some level and have product endorsement deals. In the comics, Superman actually cared about the world. In our world, Caestus Pax cares only about his action figure sales and the fact that he gets to beat the shit out of people and collects a fucking paycheck for it._

_And what's even worse than that is that there are novas out there being paid by some shady government types to do really bad things. Nothing says "bad guy" more than doing some really nasty shit, but being able to sleep with a clean conscience because these psychotic nutjobs can say they were just following orders for whatever fucking cause they're working for._

_At least the mercenary nova elites are honest about it…they'll proudly tell you they're only doing it for the money._

-Excerpt from Henry "The Duke" Rollo's new book, "It's All a Freakin' Conspiracy and I Love It!"

* * *

_**Aberdeen**_ _**Pavilion**_

_**Lansdowne**_ _**Park**_

_**Ottawa, Ontario**_

Greg entered the building and closed the door behind him before he looked around the now empty facility. The last time he was here was a year ago, he was with Ted and Maria watching a crazy hockey game (well, he was watching the game while Ted and Maria were going at it like wild rabbits a couple rows behind him in the upper "nosebleed" section). The building had been closed down for the last two months for renovation and was rumored to be sold to Project Utopia as a possible new base of operations for a Canadian based cell of Team Tomorrow.

He went through another door that lead to the arena section of the building and started to make his way down some steps. He was about halfway to the arena floor when he stopped for a moment to look around the dimly lit area.

_Nobody here…or at least that's what they want me to think._

He closed his eyes for a moment and concentrated before opening them again. When he re-opened his eyes, he smiled as he spotted multiple heat signatures lurking in the shadows at the end of the arena floor; those dozen people were no doubt there to back the three other heat signatures standing in the middle of the arena.

"Okay," he said out loud, "I'm here."

Almost immediately, he felt a sharp pain in his head, confirming that the bitch he wanted to meet was definitely here.

"Come down to the arena floor and we can get this over with," the woman ordered.

Greg did as he was told; he really didn't want to get this close, but it was the only chance he was going to get at taking the woman out. Not only that, he wanted answers and he hoped she was arrogant (and stupid) enough to tell him.

_Of course, if she tells me anything, it means she'll probably kill me. Hell, let's be real about this, she and her crew ARE going to try to kill me regardless of what I do. I just hope Chang's crew is up to this._

He made his way out onto the arena floor and could see Carol Hill aka Mesmerella standing there, flanked by two men in expensive custom tailored suits. Once again, Greg felt a sharp pain in his head and it took all his effort not to wince or flinch openly. "Show me what you have," the woman ordered.

Greg pulled out a flash-drive and held it up. "Everything I have is on this drive," he said. "There are no other copies."

For a moment, nobody moved, then the woman moved forward a few steps and Greg could see that she was wearing a leather bodysuit and black duster, a far cry from her emergency worker uniform that she was wearing in Mexico City or the off-the-rack skirt and blouse she wore at the CTV building before the studio blew up. "Give it to me," she commanded as she extended her hand. Once again, Greg could feel the pain in his head, this time along with a slight compulsion to willingly give her the drive.

"So, are we done here?" he asked. He was attempting to sound like he was nervous, though it really wasn't too hard to pretend; he really was nervous and hoping he didn't screw this up.

Mesmerella took the drive and put it in her pocket; then she smiled at him. "Not quite," she replied. The sharp pain stabbed through his brain again as she said, "I want you to stay right there."

This time, he couldn't hide his pain and winced. For a second, he actually wanted to just stand there…knowing full well the pain would go away, but he also knew that wasn't an option. He did that, he was as good as dead.

"Oh good," the woman chuckled, "you are trying to resist. Rita did too, at first, but she was relatively easy to break. And Ted…he was just clueless, then again, he never questioned Rita's judgment since he was truly in love with her…such a tragic ending for a cute couple." She then smirked at him. "And you," she said as she pulled a pistol out of her coat and held it out to him, "I'm afraid your ending will be just as tragic." She nodded at him, looking him straight in the eyes. "Now, take the pistol in my hand."

Greg did what he was told and he felt the pain fade.

"Point it at your head."

Greg raised the pistol and pointed it at his head and the pain was now completely gone.

"And pull the trigger."

For a second, the pain was replaced by compulsion and sense of pleasure. Pulling the trigger, he knew, would bring ultimate bliss…at least that's what he would have been thinking if he wasn't pissed off at the fact that this bitch killed two of his closest friends and put another in the hospital.

His eyes suddenly flashed a bright blue for a moment, not unlike a flash bulb. A split second later, there was a pop, and the smell of seared flesh could be smelt as the woman suddenly screamed and brought her hands to her now flash-burned eyes. Faster than the two thugs could react, Greg's arm moved and he pulled the trigger. The bullet nailed the first thug in the middle of the head while he focused his attention on thug number two who was pulling out a weapon of his own.

This time, Greg cut loose with a full optic blast which incinerated the man's arm right at the shoulder. He ignored Mesmerella who was now on her knees, screaming in agony as she clutched her face. Instead, he was focusing on the dozen men who were now rushing his position and opening fire on him. He started running the other way, figuring he could take cover in the arena seats. He winced as a bullet grazed his left shoulder, but kept running.

He saw a couple more gunmen appearing out of the shadows ahead of him. He emptied the magazine on the pistol as he fired at them. One of the men took most of the shots in the face-plate of his helmet and chest, the other one took cover and returned fire, forcing Greg to dive behind some seats.

_Fuck, _Greg thought, _I could really use that backup right now, old man._

A click a few feet away made him turn and look up to see one of the men in body-armor pointing an assault rifle at him. Greg knew the man could pull the trigger before he could summon another optic blast.

There was a deafening roar and the gunman suddenly went flying across the arena before coming to a bone-crunching landing in some seats on the other side of the arena.

"Mr. Paladino." Greg looked up to see a twenty something Asian man in blue jeans and a leather jacket approaching him. "I do believe you were expecting us."

More shots and gunfire throughout the arena could be heard. Greg turned and saw the other gunmen firing at random targets. Something seemed to slither out of the shadows and grab one of the gunmen screaming off in the darkness. A sickening crunch could be heard and then both halves of the gunman were thrown out of the shadows as an ominous black mist began to drift across the arena floor.

The man talking to Greg tossed him a tiny plastic bag which he caught and realized were a pair of ear-plugs. "You might want to wear those," the man said with a grin. Then he turned and screamed, unleashing a sonic wave at a couple gunmen moving on their position.

Greg did as he was told and watched as the sonic blasting nova literally blasted one man into a wall and shattered his bones. Movement out of the corner of his eye caused Greg to turn and he instinctively unleashed another heat blast that ripped through another gunman, coring him.

An inhuman roar erupted from one of the remaining gunmen and Greg watched as the man's uniform and body-armor shattered as he increased in size. A second later, a fifteen foot tall lizard like creature stood in the middle the mist covered floor. "You think you can take me!" the monster screamed, effortlessly shrugging or breaking off the shadowy tendrils trying to grab him as he started to stalk his way towards Greg and the Asian man.

Greg and the other man glanced at each other for a moment, grinned, and then turned to reface the lizard. Each man unleashed their full power at the monster, igniting the arena floor and blowing debris in all directions.

However, five seconds later, after the smoke cleared, the creature was still coming toward them and it appeared he was getting larger as he approached. "That all you got?" the reptilian nova laughed.

"Okay, this is so not good," Greg said.

"No shit," said his new friend.

"Now would be a good time to run, wouldn't it?"

"Um…yeah."

Both men bolted as the monster ripped a chunk out of the arena floor and threw it at them. "Run you, little shits!" it laughed. "Eating you two will be bonus for this job."

"Okay, that's enough."

The creature turned around to see a tall woman with short dark hair wearing an overcoat and floating in the air. "Oh…cool…a babe appetizer," the monster chuckled.

Greg risked looking down at the scene and saw the mysterious woman floating there and acting like she was just minding her own business. He was about to warn her, but he also noticed the shadowy mist had hurriedly oozed it's way off the arena floor as it knew what was coming. He shivered slightly as the black mist suddenly began to appear around him before moving a few feet away from him and forming into a shape. A second later, he was looking at a blond girl in her late teens or early twenties dressed like a goth and holding her hand out to him.

"Hiya," she girl cheerfully said. "I'm Emily, mind if I stay up here with you? I don't think I want to be down there."

"Um, what about her?" Greg asked, pointing to the other woman down in the arena facing down the approaching creature.

Emily shrugged. "Oh, Sophie? I think she's about to get a new pair of boots," she said. "Hmm, that is if there's enough left of him."

Back in on the arena floor, the woman called Sophie sighed and shook her head. "You only have one chance, my friend," she told the monster. "Walk away."

The creature snorted in amusement. "I don't think so, lady. My orders are to leave no loose ends. I'm not sure what Paladino paid you, but –"

"Wrong choice," Sophie said, cutting him off as she raised her right arm. The air seemed to glow and ripple around her for a moment, then a brilliant blast of energized plasma exploded outward from her, literally ripping away at the monster's skin before disintegrating it, along with the muscle tissue and bone. A few seconds later, the lower torso and the monstrous nova's legs were the only remains left standing before dropping to the ground a few moments later.

The woman known as Sophie gently lowered herself to the ground and began to walk over to the side of the arena floor while Greg followed Emily and the Asian man to the floor. "The name's Hahn," the Asian man said as he extended his hand to Greg who briefly shook it. "I'm Chang's nephew."

"You're part of Heaven's Thunder?"

Hahn chuckled softly and shook his head. "Not anymore, though I am still on good terms with them."

"No offense, but I thought once you were in, you were…you know…in it until the end."

"Yeah, well, my boss likes to think of it as a 'departmental transfer abroad' that works with 'outsiders who share a mutual interest'." Hahn grinned again as they reached the floor. "In other words, it's a nice way to say that I'm a go-between for the Triad and my current employer."

"And that," Sophie said as they approached her, "would be me. I am Sophie Rousseau."

Greg felt his blood run cold when he heard that name. "Rousseau," he said, "as in…"

"Yes," Sophie chuckled, "as in the daughter of the man once known as Destroyer. And you can relax, Greg, I have no intention of following in my father's footsteps." Her expression darkened slightly. "After all, there are people out there who have far surpassed him when it comes to trying to take over the world."

"R-Rousseau…we should…" They all turned to see a battered and burned Mesmerella pulling herself out of the debris. "We should have known you would have slithered out of hiding."

Greg looked at the burned out orbs that had once been the woman's eyes and, for a moment, he felt guilt. But it was only a moment and that guilt was nothing compared to the hatred he felt for this bitch. "Oh good," he said, "you survived…I'll have to correct that."

"Go ahead, Mr. Paladino," the woman rasped. "You think killing me ends it, think again! We're just starting with you. You and Robertson were loose ends…with him dead, we've left evidence to incriminate you."

Ice ran through Greg's veins as he realized what she meant. _Fuck…they have someone else targeting Lloyd while they went after me._

The tense moment was suddenly broken by Rousseau's soft chuckle. "Oh," she said, "you wouldn't mean the team you sent to kill Robertson at the hospital, do you?"

"Wait, hold on," Greg was lost, "you knew?"

Rousseau smiled at him. "Of course," she replied, "don't tell me you thought you were the only one aware of a conspiracy involving Utopia."

"Well, no…but how did you know about Lloyd?"

"Simple enough, CTV had been one of the major international media outlets that didn't dance to Utopia's tune. They tried to target all of you at once, but things didn't work out like they planned. You and Lloyd survived. It only made sense that while Mesmerella was busy with you, they would send someone to deal with Lloyd."

"Then you contacted my uncle," Hahn continued, picking up where Rousseau left off, "and we knew that they would probably use that opportunity to take out Lloyd, which is why we were a little late showing up."

"Actually, I was already here," Emily piped up, falling backward only to be caught by a shadowy mass that materialized into a cushion made what appeared to be black mist. "Someone had to do recon and set things up."

"It doesn't mean a thing," Mesmerella hissed. "You have no proof…just dead bodies and property damage."

Emily paused for a moment to think about that. "Um…wow…you might be right…hold on a second." She reached into the shadowy mass she was sitting on and pulled out a camera. "These babies are the new Arasaka Digi-pro video camera…installed several of these in various locations along with some cool audio equipment I kind of liberated from…well…you don't need to know." She suddenly stopped and listened for a moment. "Um, bosslady, we got sirens," she said.

Rousseau nodded and smiled. "Indeed." She then looked down at Mesmerella. "I'm very tempted to let Mr. Paladino kill you, Mesmerella, or even do it myself. But I think it's better to let the authorities find you here."

Suddenly, the other woman's face went white as a sheet. "No," she pleaded, "you can't do that…they'll kill me!"

"I know," Rousseau chuckled, "especially when Mr. Paladino comes forward with the footage of you practically confessing your crimes. Granted, you didn't implicate your masters too much, but you are now, as you like to say, a loose end."

Greg was about to say something, but Rousseau grabbed him by the arm. "We must go," she said, "the authorities will be here any minute."

"Um, yeah," Greg said, realizing she did have a point, "but how are we going to get out of here?"

Rousseau smiled again and then nodded at Emily. "Emily, if you would be so kind…"

Emily placed the camera back into the shadowy mass and then stood up. "Alright, Chateau Rousseau, coming right up," she said. Then she glanced at Greg. "Don't freak out, Paladino, but it's going to get real cold for about ten seconds."

"Cold?" Greg was really confused now. "How cold…could…it…possibly…" His voice trailed off as the black mist suddenly seemed for form around him and then, as Emily promised, the temperature dropped well below freezing. "Oh shi-"

And then they vanished as the mist enveloped them before folding into itself and dissipating into nothingness, leaving a bloody and maimed Mesmerella behind to be found by the authorities as they arrived on the scene.


	5. A Gray Line II

Disclaimer: Aberrant, owned by White Wolf (though I would gladly by the rights if I won the mega-millions). The Incredibles, owned by Pixar and Brad Bird (Ha! I could win the mega-millions and they still wouldn't sell). CTV is still...well...CTV. The song "Never Say Goodbye" was written and performed by Kyprios (you might want to listen to it when you get the chance...probably the only rap song I know of that will make a person cry...and I generally don't like rap).

Author's Notes: Okay, once again, this is another "salvage" job of partially lost material. Not sure what Mesmerella's secret ID was, so I gave her a random name. As usual, comments and threats are welcome. Just to warn you, this is kind of a sad chapter.

* * *

"Olivia Montague, also know as the nova mentalist Mesmerella, is currently being detained at a government nova containment facility undergoing treatment while a pending investigation is being conducted on her involvement in an incident at Lansdowne Park in Ottawa. Montague was prominent figure in the criminal underworld during the late 90s and early 2000s before almost dropping out of sight of the public eye in 2002. She had been seen in the company of various mercenary nova elites, and had been known to take the occasional contract, but managed to keep a low profile as far as nova activities go.

"However, due to recent video footage made available to the public from anonymous sources, it has been made clear that Montague and a group of unregistered novas were involved in the attack on CTV and attempted murder of Lloyd Robertson. Though the video has been made available to Authorities, it is unclear as to who hired Montague and her people, though there is no shortage of finger pointing and accusations from various sources.

"Montague herself has refused any form of legal council and, according to investigators, has refused to say anything. Project Utopia has requested to send a nova specialist to talk to her and offered assistance to the Canadian government, but Prime Minister Benton Fraser has politely declined the offer.

"In other news, former news anchor Sandra Raldo has tendered her resignation here at CTV…"

-CTV News

* * *

_**O'Mally's Pub**_

_**Ottawa, Ontario**_

Greg Paladino was sitting at the bar as he watched Lisa LeFlamme finish her broadcast, nursing a cold beer. Though he was a nova and pretty much immune to the effects of alcohol (unless he drank about six times the normal amount), he still appreciated the cold, dark, and slightly bitter taste. He hadn't been here in a couple weeks, but that was understandable given the crazy shit he had been through. His gaze went from the television to the two empty seats next to him and he was once again grateful for the beer he was drinking; the bitter taste did a good job of washing away the bile that was building in the back of his throat, but it didn't wash away the pain brought on by the fact that two of his best friends were dead.

_It's hard to believe that, just a few weeks ago, we were right here sitting at this bar cracking jokes, talking shit about the world, and playing a drinking game while we watched that jackass Chris Matthews suck up to Project Utopia on TV._

He looked over at the pool table at the other end of the room and remembered that time with Ted showing him the ring he was going to give Rita when he proposed to her.

"_Wow…um…wow."_

"'_Wow'? That's all you're going to say? I'm showing the ring and telling you I'm going to propose to Rita and all you can say is 'Wow…um…wow'?"_

"_Okay…how about, 'Oh god, don't do it!', 'All hail Ted Richards, daredevil reporter, who jumps into the unknown', or…more realistically…if you're serious about this, can I have your little black book?"_

"_What? Hell no…get your own."_

"_I do have my own, but you run with a higher class set of women than I do…which really makes me wonder why you're chasing after Rita."_

"_What's wrong with Rita?"_

"_Nothing…it's just…she's a co-worker and, to be honest, she's scarier than you."_

"_Ha! You got that right!"_

"_So…can I have the black book?"_

"_No…I intend to burn it front of her as I give her the ring."_

"_Nooooooooooo!"_

Despite himself, Greg laughed at that memory of him pretending to go into shock at the pool table and making an overdramatic scene of it. The memory faded as he looked at the pool table and saw people he didn't recognize playing a game that he and his best friend would never play again. He raised his bottle in a small salute at the pool table.

_Here's to good friends and happier times, here's to their memory._

He finished off the bottle and set it back down on the counter, pulling out a couple more bills to buy another. For a moment, his thoughts drifted back to his brother and sister and the situation with David Flynn. Because he was too busy dealing with his ordeal, he wasn't thinking too much about Lydia and Brian. However, he did catch some news involving David Flynn's action against Utopia and the UN.

_David Pine Flynn…you know, in some ways, you're worse than your father. All he really did was kill my father because he was some psychotic nutjob with issues. You, on the other hand, are fighting a shadowy cabal and dragging anyone you touch into a war._

The moment he thought that, Greg realized that wasn't fair.

_Then again…you're more like me. You see shit happening and you try to fight it, no matter the odds. But I'm not supposed to fight, I'm supposed to observe and report._

Another memory flashed through his mind, an earlier memory of when he and Ted had first come to this bar the day after they met each other for the first time.

"_Observe and report, that's all we're supposed to do, my friend. Doesn't matter if we see some guy getting gunned down a few yards away or some young woman getting raped by some Islamic fundamentalist enforcers…it's our job to look around, read the prepared bullshit, splice it with some footage, come home, get our next assignment, and let the cycle repeat itself. You know what, that's a bunch of fucking shit…I told my bosses that, they fired me, I punched them out…and I got kicked out here to 'OH CANADA!'. And you know what, I would do it again."_

"_Sounds to me like you've had one too many, Ted."_

"_Oh, I haven't even taken more than a sip. I'm just getting started and this is me getting pissed off. So what's your story?"_

"_Played Good Samaritan despite my previous boss' orders not to and then I beat the shit out of him for trying to take credit for saving those people when all he did was stand there and bitch me and the bystanders out for going into the collapsing building in the first place. My problem was that it was caught on camera and was livestreaming at the time."_

"_Heh…Ted Richards, exiled reporter with a conscience."_

"_Greg Paladino, camera guy and cursed with the same problem."_

"_I guess that makes Lloyd Robertson a crazy and senile old man for hiring us, huh?"_

"_Maybe…or maybe it's because he's cursed with a soul just like us and has still managed to hold on to it after all these years."_

"_Now that is something I will drink to…cheers!"_

"You're seeing ghosts, aren't you?"

That question brought Greg back to reality and he realized the empty seat next to him was now occupied by a blond haired young woman with pixie-like facial features. It took him a moment to recognize her because her hair was no longer in pigtails like the night before and she wasn't wearing clothes that made it look like she was about to go clubbing with a bunch of Goths. Granted, she was still dressed all in black, but she was wearing a leather skirt, a black blouse, and leather overcoat instead of the leather pants and piercings.

"Excuse me?" he managed to say.

"Ghosts," the young woman named Emily said. "Memories of good friends suddenly taken from us before their time; it sucks, doesn't it?"

"And what would you know about it?" Greg snapped unintentionally. He was in mourning still; he really didn't appreciate a complete stranger intruding on it.

"More than enough," Emily replied, seemingly oblivious to Greg's hostile tone as she tapped on the corner. "Yo, paying customer here," she said, waving a handful of bills at a bartender who was giving her a suspicious look.

"Do you have any ID, kid," the bartender asked.

"What? Seriously?" Emily huffed as she opened her purse and pulled out an which she showed to the bartender. "See this," she said, "I'm of legal age, now get me a mocha with a couple shots of dark rum."

The bartender looked at her ID card and grunted as he gave it back to her before going to fix her order.

"Damn, can you believe people these days?" Emily grumbled again. "It's been eight years and people still think I'm sixteen years old." She looked up at the ceiling. "Whoever was responsible for the Galatea incident up there, I hope you bastards get a hard kick in your cosmic gonads of eternity…eternal youth my ass…more like an eternal interrogation session. Even that bitch at the Amp Room in Ibiza cards me."

Despite his dark mood, Greg was trying to fight the urge to laugh. "Well, in everyone's defense, you do look…well…a little young and you do…um…kind of act like an obnoxious teenager."

Emily stared daggers at him for a second, but stopped when the bartender put her drink in front of her, causing her eyes to widen in anticipation. "Oh, yeah…speedy service…that earns extra points," she said before taking a sip of her mocha/rum beverage. She half closed her eyes as she savored the taste. "Oh yeah…dark rum with extra sugar and caffeine…you can't go wrong there." She took another sip of her drink before putting it back on the counter. "Now…where was I?"

"How about starting with the part that explains why you're following me," Greg said.

"Oh please," Emily rolled her eyes, "you think I willingly volunteered when Bosslady said, 'Hey, I need someone to talk go talk to Mr. Mopy Depressed McBroody Guy'?" She shook her head. "I don't think so, I'd rather be home watching CSI reruns right now, but I drew the short straw."

"Somehow, I doubt she said that."

"Well, maybe I elaborated a little," Emily held up a thumb and forefinger, "a teensy bit."

"Yeah, I would say so," Greg said. "So, why are you here?"

"Well, first to check up on you, and second, the Bosslady wants to know what you're gonna' do now."

Greg thought about it for a moment as he took a sip of a new beer that was placed in front of him before answering. "To be honest, I have no clue," he admitted. "Two of my best friends were murdered, a man I deeply respect is in critical condition, several other co-workers were injured, I was pretty much fired from my job, nearly killed by some crazy bitch who works for some shadowy cabal, got un-fired, and now I'm talking to some chirpy little pixie like creature whose powers remind me of something out an HP Lovecraft inspired nightmare."

Emily paused for a moment and then shook her head after dismissing Greg's opinion. "Lovecraft? Me? Nah…he's way scarier than that." She took another pull off her drink. "Mmmm…y'know, seriously though, sitting here and trying to get drunk and trying to catch ghosts isn't going to do you any good."

"I know that," Greg said, a tired look in his eyes. "But right now, it's the only thing I can do right now that's preventing me from doing what I really want to do?"

"Oh really, and what might that be?" Emily asked.

"Cutting loose, getting outright pissed off, and pretty much burning every Utopia representative and facility to a fucking cinder," casually replied before slamming back the rest of his beer. "But," he said as placed the now empty bottle on the counter, "that wouldn't be a good idea and would kind of make things worse for me and the rest of the world."

"No, it wouldn't." Emily finished off the rest of her drink and then looked back at him again. "Mind if I ask you a personal question?"

Greg signaled the bartender to get him another bottle. "Well, given the fact that you seem intent on hanging around and pestering me regardless of what I do, not really."

"What would your friends do if the position were reversed?"

For a moment, Greg was tempted not to answer her question; however, once he thought about it, he couldn't help chuckling at what he knew what Ted and Rita would do. "Honestly, I think they would be sitting here, drinking and mourning me, and then they would go to either her apartment or his condo, and then have drunken-grief sex. After fucking each other senseless and then waking up and dealing with the hangover, they'd probably want to nail the bastards who killed me."

Emily smirked at him. "Well, I hardly know you, Paladino and I have a policy of not sleeping with guys I just met."

"Well, you do look the part," Greg fired back. A shadowy black tendril briefly materialized behind him and smacked him on the back of the head. "Ow!"

"I'm going to let that slide," Emily said. "Now, as for nailing the bastards who killed your friends…how do you plan to do that?"

"I don't know," Greg answered honestly. "Is this the part where you tell me that your boss wants me to sign on with your crew?"

"Don't be an idiot," Emily snapped. "Granted, that is an option, but c'mon, don't you think that's a little too predictable. Besides, if she wanted to make that offer, she would have approached you herself with it. No, Mr. Paladino…you are a wild card." Then she grinned at him. "And the bosslady prefers you to remain that way, though she might contact you now and then for information or to give you a heads-up on things heading your way."

"Kind of hard for me to relay information to her since I'm really in no position to do that."

"Oh ye of little faith," Emily giggled. "You said you were 'un-fired' from your job, right?"

"Yeah, but they're still trying to reassemble things after Sandra got her ass fired, and the new people in charge haven't said jack to me except telling me that I have a meeting with the interim Director next week."

"Do you plan to stick around with them?" Emily asked.

"I'm not sure. Though to be honest, I think they'll just call me in, offer me what they believe to be a generous severance package, and then kick my ass out the door."

Emily was about to say something, but was interrupted by the ringing of Greg's cell phone. "You might want to get that," she said after it rang a couple times.

Greg let it ring one more time before sighing in resignation and reached into his coat to pull out his cell-phone. "This is Paladino," Greg answered, bracing himself for some annoying secretary working for the interim news director informing him that his meeting had been postponed.

"Paladino, get your fucking ass in here, NOW!"

Greg winced when he heard that voice screaming at him and silently cursed under his breath when he recognized the person screaming at him. And then, anger gave way to shock and, oddly enough, a sense of relief. "Lisa? Is that you?"

"Damn right it's me, you jackass!" Lisa LaFlamme all but roared through the phone at him. "Sandra and her fucking cronies left this place in shambles, even worse than after the explosion, and I need someone who is actually competent to help me salvage this place while Lloyd recovers."

"Um…I was under the impression that I was under review and that I was going to get my ass thrown out the door."

"Oh, you are NOT getting off that easy, you bastard," Lisa hissed. "If I'm going to be forced to endure this nightmare, I am going to make sure that you, of all people, are going to suffer through it with me!" Greg caught himself smiling at Lisa's berating tone and, in the back of his mind, he imagined Rita and Ted laughing at this. Then Lisa's voice softened. "Seriously, Greg, I need you here."

It actually took him several seconds to make up his mind. He had briefly thought about walking away, but the photograph on the wall behind the bar showing a picture of him, Ted, and Rita celebrating New Year's Eve the previous year killed that notion. After all, he owed them that much. "Okay," he finally said, "I'll be there in forty-five minutes...bitch."

"See that you are, asshole," Lisa shot back before laughing. "Look, just get here, okay? We have a lot of work to do."

Greg chuckled as he closed the phone and put it back in his jacket. He then looked up and saw Emily sitting there smirking at him. "What?" he asked.

"You have a very fucked up relationship with that woman, don't you?"

Greg smiled at her. "You have no idea," he said.

"Have you slept with her?"

That question suddenly brought a scary mental image of Lisa LaFlamme that caused Greg to shudder in terror and banish to the darkest depths of his mind in hopes of never being seen again. "Oh god, no!" he gasped in horror. And once again, in the back his mind, he could hear the imagined laughter of his friends as he got up out of his seat.

"So you've made a decision?" Emily asked.

"Yeah," Greg said, "if you call not being a soulless bastard and preventing a rabid wolf from being eaten by a pack of piranhas a decision."

"Then I guess my work here is done," Emily said, smirking at him again.

"Exactly, what was your job here?" Greg asked. "Because I'm certain that being a 'chirpy annoyance' is actually in your job description."

"Probably not, but that's just one of the side benefits of the job." Then Emily's expression became more sympathetic. "But like I said, I know what it's like dealing with ghosts. And believe me, it's better dealing with them on your feet instead of just sitting in that chair. You're still alive, you owe it to their memories to live and keep going. That's all we really can do."

"I think you missed your calling, Emily," he said as he straightened out his jacket and got ready to leave, pulling out a few more bills to pay his tab and leave a tip for the bartender. "You didn't strike me as the deep spiritual type."

"Well, that's no surprise," Emily said. "After all, until a couple years ago, I was studying to be a nun."

Again, Greg was hit with another mental image…one that he tried to banish, albeit reluctantly, as he briefly imagined Emily dressed as a "naughty nun", dressed in tight leather and brandishing a riding crop. And again, he heard the imaginary laughter of his friends in the back of his mind.

He shook his head to get that image out of his mind before looking up to see Emily smirking at him. "What?"

"Oh yeah," Emily said, "I know exactly where you went just now."

"Did not."

"Oh, you so did," Emily snickered. "I can see it on your face." Then she leaned forward and lowered her voice. "And who knows," she whispered seductively, "that could be a possibility some day."

"Knock it off," he said, once again trying to shake that image out of his head.

Emily pulled a few bills of her own out of her coat and tossed them on the bar. "Well, I guess we're done here," she said, getting out of her own seat. When she looked back at him, the playful smirk faded a little. "Just remember, Gregory Paladino, you and your friends were fighters. They died fighting a good fight, and it is one thing to mourn and remember them, but don't let their deaths maim you."

And with those parting words, she walked away, leaving him standing there for a moment as she left the building. A couple minutes later, he started to head toward the exit as well, but stopped at the door when he caught the lyrics of a song that was being played over the bar's sound system.

_So kid, don't mourn take your life back _

_Carpe Diem and all that _

_Really matters today is today see _

_The more you live the happier I'll be _

_Ya'd better take your time and shine _

_Everybody gotta learn sometimes _

_That there's no goodbyes cause after every night fall a new sun will rise _

_Every life first the sun then the night falls_

_We're all on borrowed time_

_I'll never say goodbye_

_Take your time, live your life like it's last call_

_Don't wanna' see ya cry _

_We'll never say goodbye…_

He looked around the pub one more time, first at the bar that he, Ted, and Rita spent many after-work sessions at; then he looked over at the pool table that he and Ted spent countless hours bullshitting about the world and their place in it. And, for a moment, his imagination drifted and he could see the ghosts of Rita and Ted standing there at the bar, raising their glasses as if saluting them before fading back into memory.

He nodded slightly, bowing his head for a moment as he made a silent vow; he would find the people responsible for killing his friends and he would see them pay for it and, if possible, he would do it in a way that Ted and Rita would approve.

After all, what better way to avenge someone than by finishing their work and exposing the enemy to the world for the bastards they truly were?

_Every life was the sun, and the night falls_

_We're all on borrowed time, never say goodbye._

_Take your time, live your life like it's last call_

_Don't wanna' see ya cry, don't ever say goodbye…_

_Don't ever say goodbye…don't ever say goodbye…_

And, with those lyrics playing in the background, he we went through the door and out into the night.


	6. Reflections and New Beginnings

Disclaimer: Aberrant, owned by White Wolf Games. The Incredibles, created and owned by Brad Bird.

Author's Notes: Okay, it's almost one in the morning and I'm dead tired. As usual reviews are welcome.

* * *

_There are some of us who believe ourselves to be gods. I do not share such a delusion. Yes, it is true that we are superior to humans but, contrary to what some may think, we our not gods. Unfortunately, there are some people who make the fatal mistake of playing God._

_Chaos Theory doesn't even come close to the dark equation that ends with a final solution. Sadly, that final solution tends to take out a lot of bystanders instead of just the fool meddling in something they do not understand._

-From the Private Journal of The Mathematician, Pedro Santiago

* * *

_**Syndrome Software and Technology**_

_**Main Campus**_

_**Metroville, California**_

"So you're not going to do anything?"

"Nope."

"You mean you're just going to let him walk away like that?"

"He has every right to and it's in his contract."

"And you're okay with this?"

Instead of answering Zoe, David leaned back in his chair and mentally activated the holo-display on his desk, calling up the diagrams of the Saunders' nanite. "Shiro is a grown-up," he said. "Technically, we all are, except for you but that's less than a year."

"This isn't about me," Zoe snapped, "and quit trying to change the subject."

"I'm not changing the subject, Zoe. Shiro got a glimpse at what we're up against and it's got him spooked." David waved his hand and the holographic image zoomed in on the nano-organism and various technical data filled the screen. "But there's nothing I can say to stop him. If he wants to leave, he's more than welcome to…if I said no, that makes me no better than Utopia."

"And what's to keep him from running to Utopia with what he knows?"

"Somehow, I doubt that would happen," David said, waving away Zoe's concern. "He has a reason to hate Utopia as much as I do. It's just that…this thing with Bridgette kind of freaked him out a little."

At the mention of Bridgette, Zoe seemed to deflate a little and fell silent for a few seconds. "So how is she?" she finally asked.

"Aside from the fact that she died and somehow got resurrected as a sentient nano-metallic entity and is coping with the loss of her father, I'd say she's doing well except for the fact that she's emotionally devastated and has pretty much kept to herself over the last few days." He looked stood up out of his chair and began to tap a couple keys on the touch-screen keyboard built into his desk. A moment later the holographic image seemed to explode as it expanded to fill the room, showing the internal workings of the nano-organism. "Hmm," David said, "this is interesting…these things have upgraded and improved over the version that were in the samples taken a couple days ago."

"Dammit, David!" Zoe yelled, slamming a hand on his desk. "This is Bridgette we're talking about; she is not a damn science experiment for you to take apart!"

David stopped what he was doing and looked right at her, and Zoe realized from the look in his eyes that she had crossed a line with him. He glared at her for a couple more seconds before raising his right hand, causing certain parts of the nano-specimen to be tagged with a glowing blue light that revealed more data. "You know what this is, Zoe?" he asked rhetorically since he knew that she already knew the answer. "It's the base nano-organism that Doc Saunders and Bridgette developed. This is the stuff that Bridgette programmed and shot into Violet and sped up her recovery. Bridgette's body is now made of billions of these things, possibly trillions, and they are constantly adapting, evolving, and replacing each other as they die out or become obsolete. The version we're standing in right now is about several generations beyond the original organism that was used on Violet." He clapped his hands together and the image shrank down to fit in the palm of his right hand. With wave of his other hand, another image shimmered into existence to show a battered and tarnished metal orb. "You know what that is?"

"No, and I don't care," Zoe snapped again. "We're talking about Bridgette here whether you want to or not."

David ignored the barb and continued talking. "Back in 1938, the Aeon Society discovered this artifact in Crete. Max Mercer and his crew determined it to be over three thousand years old and it took some specialized methods to scrape off a sample of it. The man who managed to do it had to take extraordinary measures just to get it and even managed to unlock its secrets…which I think factored heavily into his leaving the group a couple years later, but that's another story for another time. When he left, he took most of his research with him, re-locked the artifact and pretty much left the Aeon Society with a three thousand year old paperweight and a sample of the alloy that made it up."

He gave her a smug grin as he gestured at the artifact with the nanite projection hovering over the palm his hand. "Take a wild guess what the properties of that alloy sample resemble."

Zoe looked like she was about to explode until David's words sunk in and she realized what he was saying. "Whoa, hold on," she said, her mind reeling at the implication, "you're saying this stuff that Bridgette is…that's the same stuff that three thousand year old artifact is made out of?"

"Except the material is inert." David waved his hand and the nanite holo-construct vanished. "That," he said, gesturing at the hologram of the artifact that slowly rotated above his desk, "is where Aeon got a shitload of their technological advancement. Granted it took them decades to unlock it again, but that's where they got a lot of their information before Galatea happened."

"So what happened to the artifact?" Zoe asked, studying the rotating image.

"I'm not sure…what I do know is that they managed to unlock it, download quite a bit of data, but then someone stole it."

"Stole it? How? I mean, Aeon doesn't seem like the kind of group that will let something get taken that easily?" Zoe's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "You know who took it, don't you?"

David shook his head and gave her a sad smile. "No," he said, "and to be honest, I really hope it stays lost. People have done too much damage with it and I shudder to think what would have happened if Aeon had fully unlocked the artifact. The person who opened it realized that it was a Pandora's Box and did his best to re-lock it. The second person who managed to crack it, they lacked their predecessor's ethics," bitterness crept into voice, "and now we're suffering for it."

"If you don't mind me asking, the guy who broke the artifact the second time, it was your fa…" Zoe paused to correct herself. "It was Buddy Pine, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, it was." There was no bitterness or anger in the answer. Instead, David's voice was cold and emotionless. It was a tone that Zoe recognized right away; the only time David went there was when he was talking about someone he truly despised. While he had a hatred for Project Utopia, he never really used that tone except when talking about their leadership and the Aeon Society.

"Those in the know would say that the world is a better place because of it," David continued. "I know a shitload of people who would disagree with the cost, especially since they paid it." He waved his hand and the artifact shimmered out of existence to be replaced by a window of flowing data and imagery.

Zoe noticed a few names and recognized some of the pictures; a bitter taste formed in her mouth as she realized what they all had in common. "David, you didn't do any of that," she managed to say. "And I can understand why you feel guilty about it, but you can't beat yourself up."

"Oh, I know that, Zoe," David said, causing the window to vanish and the hologram of the nano-construct reappeared. "But given what I know now…I keep thinking that we're screwed no matter what happens."

Zoe was now confused. "Well, I know things are bad, but don't you think it's a tad dramatic to think that way? I mean, okay, so this shit is technology from three thousand years ago that no one knew existed. That in itself is kind of trippy, but we'll deal with it."

"Except for one slight problem, Zoe," David said, shaking his head again. "I've seen some of the data taken from that artifact and I can see why Aeon is so damned determined to suppress its discovery from everyone. The guy who originally unlocked it probably knew damn well what some of the more corrupt members of the Society would have done with it."

"I don't see what the big deal is," Zoe said with a shrug. "It's not like the damn thing was from the future or anything…" She stopped when she saw David raise an eyebrow and then the realization hit her, a realization that she managed to sum up in three simple words.

"No…Fucking…Way."

David was about to say something in response when door to his office and NSA Director Richard Dicker stormed in. Okay, he didn't storm in, but he purposefully strode into the room, glaring at David while holding a piece of paper in his hand. "Okay, kid," he said as he stopped at David's desk, "what the hell did you do?"

"Um, you're going to have to be specific," David started to say, but stopped when he looked at the paper Dicker had dropped on his desk and read it. "Oookay, that looks like some sort of official document telling me to appear at some sort of Senate Committee hearing."

"That's because it IS an official summons to appear before a Senate Committee hearing." Dicker's voice was a soft growl. "They were originally going to send two PRIMUS agents to serve you, but I pulled some strings because I want to know what the hell you did."

"Again, you're going to have to be more specific," David said. "Depending who you ask, I've committed a lot of crimes."

"Dammit, kid, this is not a game!" Dicker's angry tone made it clear that this was serious. Even when he was annoyed with David's worst antics (like the incident with the UN), the old man never raised his voice except for that one other time involving the town of Redfield (which was still a sore point with David). "The fire at Saunders' lab a few nights ago, there were reports that you were at the scene."

"Yeah, but you know that and I told you everything I know."

"Really?" Dicker glared at David for a moment. "Tell me, when were you going to tell me about the part where you practically locked down all of Saunders' research and seized some of his financial assets?"

"Frozen, actually," David corrected the man, "I froze all his assets and all his research is currently being kept out of the reach of opportunistic assholes who are salivating like rabid wolves to get their chance at his data."

"This is the US government, David, a senate committee panel!"

David smirked at the man. "I rest my case on that statement alone, your honor." Then his expression hardened. "How much you want to bet that half those senators on that panel are on Utopia's payroll? And, just out of curiosity, what the hell do you want me to do, old man, turn everything over to them? Would that include Bridgette as well?"

"You could have turned her over to us."

"Oh yeah," David snorted, "that would have gone over well. Somehow, I don't think Aeon or PRIMUS will let you get away with that."

"They wouldn't have any right to take her from us."

"No," David said, "but they don't see her as a sentient being either. To PRIMUS, she's a potential weapon. To Utopia, she's just another piece of technology just waiting to be exploited."

"And how does that make you any different from them, kid?" Dicker leaned forward on the desk. "With your lockdown, only you can access that technology and market-"

David suddenly shot up out of his chair so quickly, it startled Zoe and Dicker. When he spoke, there was a malicious gleam in his eyes that made it clear Dicker had hit a nerve. "Don't even think of going there, old man," he hissed, pointing his finger at Dicker accusingly. "You know damn well why I do what I do."

Dicker's voice softened a little. "I know that, kid, but if that's the kind of response you're going to give when they ask that question, you're going to have some problems."

David's shoulders sagged as he slowly dropped back into his chair. "You're right," he admitted, "I've been hit with a lot of stuff lately and I'm trying not to snap."

"Just goes to prove you're human after all," Zoe chuckled, obviously trying to lighten the mood. "At least, as human a nova can be," she added.

"That's the problem, Zoe," David said. "To people like PRIMUS and Utopia, we're not really human, despite the public spin they try to put out. To them, novas are either a commodity or a possible threat; there really is no 'middle ground' as far as they're concerned and Bridgette would definitely fall in the latter category."

"So what are you going to do, David?" Zoe asked. "Can't you just turn it down?"

David frowned at her. "I could," he replied, "but it would consist of some bribery or me leaving the country which really aren't viable options for me. This isn't like being summoned for jury duty and coming up with some bullshit reason not to participate." He picked up the summons and skimmed through it. "Ah, I see we've got five douche bags representing their masters making up this committee."

"They were elected by the American people," Dicker said.

"If you say so," David said with a grin. "I'm not going to get in it with you about how much of a joke the election process is, Dicker; though I have to admit my little stunt a couple weeks ago certainly destroyed a few political careers."

"I wouldn't be gloating if I were you, kid," Dicker warned, "they are daring you to step into a shark tank and they've got you by the short-hairs. You decline it, they could have you arrested."

David's grin got bigger. "Well then," he said as he clasped his hands together, "I guess I have no choice. But if I'm going into a shark tank, I think I'll bring a harpoon or two with me."

* * *

Shiro looked around what was soon to be his former apartment/office and sighed as he taped up another box he would be taking out to the SUV waiting for him in the parking lot. He was expecting some of his former co-workers to get pissed off at him, but the worst he got from some of them was indifference while others wished him good luck.

_Then again,David's "open door" policy might have had something to do with that._

He had to admit that David's reaction surprised him. He was expecting veiled threats or some sort of intimidation, or perhaps a last minute offer to convince him to stay. But instead, David merely shook his hand and said, "It's your decision, Shiro, I can't stop you."

Shiro wasn't even too sure what his next options were. There were a couple places he could go and he knew that Novation Games would be salivating at the chance to hire him on, but they were the last people he would approach. While he didn't ultimately approve of what David was doing, he also knew that Utopia was much worse.

_Nintendo would probably hire me on and David probably wouldn't mind that since I would still be developing games for his OCS._

He had no intention of signing on with ViaSoft or Sony. Again, he might not have been happy with David's actions, but David didn't deserve his betrayal.

"I hear you're leaving." Shiro spun around and saw the chrome female humanoid shape standing in the doorway of his office. A second later, the figure shifted and morphed to the smaller human form of Bridgette Saunders wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants.

"Yeah," Shiro said, "you heard correctly."

"May I ask why?"

Shiro thought about it for a moment before he answered. "To be honest, I don't know. It's a variety of things. It was fun at first, signing up with someone who is basically giving Utopia the finger, making money, doing all sorts of crazy shit and getting paid for it...but now." He closed his eyes for a moment as he tried to figure out how to explain it. "Violet's getting shot was one thing, retaliating against Utopia was another...I have no problem dealing with that kind of shit. It's 'us versus them', I get that part. But now, after this shit with you and the rest of the crap David dumped on me...it's..." He sighed and dropped into the sofa in his living room. "It's all this shit hitting me all at once. One day, I see us as the good guys and Utopia's the bad guys...easy to understand. Now you got all these other players running around and then this latest shit that happened to you and what he did to you."

He shook his head and sighed again. "I'm sorry Bridgette, I need a break. I want to just kick back, relax, take a breath, and try to regain my bearings."

Bridgette walked into the living room and sat down in a chair across from Shiro. "How much did David tell you?"

"He told me about his condition, that his MR node is killing him and he was hoping your research would help him. He then explained what happened to you and what he did to make you...well..more you instead of..." Shiro hesitated because he wasn't sure how to put it delicately. "Well...to make you more you and less psycho liquid terminator babe...not that there's anything wrong with that."

A tiny smile tugged at the corner of Bridgette's mouth. "You forget, Shiro, our minds were briefly linked...I already know your preference in women." Her clothing shifted, the sweats and t-shirt replaced by tight-fitting silver pants and and silver halter-top. Her dark hair lengthened slightly, a green streak appearing at the front.

"Hey, that's not cool," Shiro said. "Okay, it's actually hot, but that's beside the point." He managed to push aside whatever lust-filled fantasy that surfaced in his mind. "Look, seriously, what he did to you...he basically programmed you to be what your are. And to be honest, I'm not really sure if you're you and...okay, now we're getting off track here."

"Are we?" Bridgette's clothing shifted back to the sweats and t-shirt she was wearing earlier, but she kept the hairstyle. "I don't think it's David's war with Utopia that bothers you, I think it's his ethics, or what you believe to be his ethics. Am I correct?"

"Er...well...um, yeah. I mean, if he can just take control of you like he did...what's keeping him from doing the same to any of us. I mean, the guy is a fucking mega-genius...it wouldn't surprise me if he had a mind-control ray or some sort of mind-wipe device somewhere."

"True," Bridgette said, nodding in agreement, "he could have something like that. And you're right, he did take control of me. To be honest, that is why I, or the entity I had become, was alarmed. We had become aware, sentient, and we saw David as a threat. And we...I...did something to him that I do regret." She fell silent for a moment, then shook her head as she continued speaking. "But what's done is done. And what he did to me...yes, it was what I feared...but I didn't think he would do what he had done."

"What did he do?" Shiro asked.

"He did an Asimov," she said with a smirk. "A very twisted variant of an Asimov. He inputted a bunch of directives that I had to follow. Well, that's not true, the first three are the only ones that need to be followed, I think he put the others in there just to be a smartass."

"What kind of directives?"

"One, I am to make my own decisions," Bridgette recited. "Two, I am to reinforce adherence to Directive One. Three, repeat Directives one through three. The others," Bridgette smiled again, "well, I did say my cousin was a smartass, right?"

"That is a given," Shiro chuckled. "But seriously, that's what he did?"

"Yeah...free will."

"Isn't that kind of a risk? Don't get me wrong, but how could he be sure that you wouldn't just...you know...go all terminator and start killing everyone?"

"He wasn't." Bridgette tilted her head slightly and frowned at him. "And you've been watching too many movies. Besides, I'm not just a machine; if I was, I wouldn't be here trying to talk you out of leaving."

Now that surprised Shiro. "David didn't put you up to this, did he?" he asked.

"No," Bridgette replied. "And to be honest, he has no problem with you leaving. He has other problems to deal with and you departing, while not a good thing, is a low priority." Her expression softened a little. "And while some people may see your actions as self-serving and maybe a little cowardly, I remember the goofball who gave me a lego flowerpot and a note telling me to remember who I am. You're a good guy, Shiro. You have a conscience and, to be honest, SST needs that conscience...that little voice that will say, 'Um, hey...y'know...this isn't a good idea'. Granted, there are others here that do that, but you're one of the key people he trusts." She got up out of her chair and looked down at him. "But, as he said, it's your decision and none of us can tell you what to do."

For a moment, Shiro said nothing as Bridgette started to walk away. "Wait," he said, causing her to stop at the door. "He actually trusts me?"

"Of course," Bridgette said. Then she smiled again. "Because if he didn't, he would have let Dicker mind-wipe you."

"Yeah, right," Shiro laughed. "You really need to work on your sense of humor, Bridgette."

"I'll keep that in mind when I try to use it," Bridgette replied as she stepped out the door and began to walk away.

"Very funny," Shiro muttered as he got up out of the sofa and started to resume packing. Then he stopped and looked at the open door. "You were joking, right? Bridgette? That was a joke, right? Right?"

* * *

_**Undisclosed Aeon Facility**_

_**Rockford, Illinois**_

Phillipa Lavielle walked around the specimen tank, pausing for a moment to read some of the data flashing across the one of the terminal screens that monitored the subject's brain activity.

_Hmm, it would appear the AI algorithm and the new mental template integrated successfully._

She drummed her fingers on the glass of the tank and she thought the comatose young woman inside the tank twitched slightly in her fetal position.

_Well, not exactly comatose, but not fully awake...at least not yet._

She looked over the data and smiled when she read that active trials were scheduled to begin within forty-eight hours.

_Oh what a long way we've come over the last fifty years. We've gone from selective breeding to vat-grown genetic specimens within a couple generations. And now, what used to take us a couple years now only takes a few weeks to create._

She touched the data screen to highlight the one of the noted anomalies in the specimen and frowned as she read the data.

_Interesting, apparently her immune system is attempting to manufacture the novaximene protein. That's not good...can't have this young lady straying too far without a leash._

Phillipa tapped a couple more keys on the terminal, sending orders to the incubation unit to cripple the subject's immune system. After a couple more seconds, she closed the window and looked back at the specimen in the tank.

_You, young lady, are going to be very interesting._

"So this is where we were born." Phillipa turned to see Tagger standing on a flight of steps, leaning against a rail and frowning slightly. "I dunno'," he said, "this almost seems like a disappointment."

"What are you doing here, Tagger?"

"What does it look like, Director Lavielle." Tagger walked down the steps and stopped a few feet away from the tank. "I'm seeing what the next generation of engineered novas looks like and wondering how soon it will be before you decide we're obsolete and have us sanctioned."

Phillipa smirked at him. "I could say that you're imagining things, Tagger, and that you have a vivid imagination."

"You could," the man returned her smirk with one of his own, "but you wouldn't deny it either."

"Is it my imagination, or are you not worried by that possibility?" Phillipa asked, genuinely intrigued by Tagger's reaction.

"We all die, Director," Tagger replied with a shrug. "I figure I might as well have fun and enjoy my time before it ends." He then pointed at the figure in the tank. "If you don't mind me asking, are you going to be adding her to the crew, or is she going be part of a new unit?"

"You know, for someone who is the smart-ass of your group, you seem to be more level headed when your associates aren't with you."

"Protective coloration, Director," Tagger chuckled. "No one suspects a fool, so they tend to ignore or discount me."

"Then why let me know this?" Phillipa was curious now. The clone of Gazerbeam rarely showed initiative and seemed to follow the lead of his two companions.

Tagger smiled again. "You forget who I'm a clone of, Director. Simon Paladino was a brilliant man, though a little headstrong...which ultimately got him killed. I, on the other hand, prefer to learn from my predecessor's mistakes. My existence may be limited, but I'd prefer not to rush it along." He looked back at the woman in the tank. "So tell me, Director, what are we going to call her?"

Phillipa stared at the face of the young woman in the tank for a moment. She realized the personality matrix of the woman would be much different than her genetic donor. She grinned as the name came to her.

_Yes, the name will fit you perfectly, my dear._

"Artemis," she said, turning to face Tagger, "after all, it just seems appropriate."

Had she been paying attention at that moment, she would have noticed the young woman's eyes open for a moment, flare brightly as if backlit by some unknown energy, then close...the tiniest hint of a smile on her face.

On another screen on a smaller terminal on the opposite side of the tank, a tiny window briefly flashed to indicate activity on the personality algorithm being programmed into the specimen.

**Reconstructed Black protocol integrated...**


	7. In the Presence of Mine Enemies I Stand

Disclaimer: Don't own Incredibles, Brad Bird and Pixar do. Don't own "Aberrant", that's owned by White Wolf. Don't own Ted Kennedy, but he's dead and this is just a work of fiction. If he has a problem with how he's portrayed in this story, he's more than welcome to take it up with me. No other senators were harmed in this story (though I will admit that Barbara Bauxer, sadly, does have a real world counterpart). "Senator McDuffie" is my subtle way of paying homage to the late great Dwayne McDuffie whose storytelling skills kicked ass and did wonders in restoring life what was a dying DC franchise (you will always be missed, Dwayne).

Author's Notes: Yes, I got the idea for this from watching Iron Man 2, I'll confess this. Also gave me a chance to vent some frustration I have towards two political parties I have grown to despise over the last few years. Anyway...I'm tired...going to sleep now...night...

* * *

"People should not be afraid of their governments. Governments should be afraid of their people."

-Alan Moore, "V for Vendetta"

* * *

_**Washington DC**_

David inwardly sighed and resisted the urge to yawn or scream at the top of his lungs and bang his head against the table he was sitting behind.

_Okay, over the last month I have been beaten to a bloody pulp, nearly killed a couple times, got put in a coma from one of those attacks, and I'm still dealing with the fact that I'm still dying and will be dead within the next ten years or so. And right now, I'm wishing to be facing that shit instead of enduring the crap here._

He glanced over his shoulder and looked around the chamber at the people sitting behind him.

_Shit, there's gotta' be at least couple hundred people here. We got senators and congressmen, a bunch of reporters, some connected businessmen...oh hey, Chris Matthews is here...he's probably going to start jacking off when one of the pro-Utopia people speaks._

"Mr. Flynn, are you with us this afternoon?" David turned his head to face the stern faced woman who was glaring imperiously at him from her position behind a table sitting on an elevated dais that allowed her and the other Senators sitting with her to look down at David and the rest of the people in the chamber.

"Yes, ma'am," David replied, trying to sound respectful.

"I am United States Senator, Mr. Flynn," Senator Barbara Bauxer snapped, disgust evident in her voice. "You will address me accordingly by my title."

"My apologies, Senator Ma'am," David grinned at her, "I will not make that error again." He knew his response would agitate her further, as did the snickers and laughter from the rest of the spectators in the gallery. He also knew that people watching this on C-Span and other networks were probably chuckling. He also knew the pro-Utopia people in the media would already be accusing him of being disrespectful of authority, but that didn't bother him; it was common knowledge that Barbara Bauxer along with eighty percent the Democratic Party she belonged to were pro-Utopia supporters.

_I still can't figure out how this bitch even got onto this committee...hell, I didn't even know that there WAS such a thing as an Advanced Technological Development and Regulation committee. Seriously, is that all these assholes do with our tax money...just form committees, bitch and moan, and then go do a prostitute after hours? Oh wait...Kennedy's on this panel...make that prostitutes, plural, and a couple cocktail waitresses._

After glaring at David for a few seconds and waiting for the laughter to pass, Senator Bauxer spoke again. "Do you even know why you're here?" she asked condescendingly.

David was going to giver her straight forward answer, but her condescending tone already had him going into "smart-ass" mode. He smiled at her as he leaned forward towards the microphone. "I'm sorry," he said, "is this the part where I'm supposed to hesitantly, perhaps timidly, look at you in fear and trepidation before saying something like 'No, Senator Ma'am' and then you glare at me some more before explaining to me in a condescending tone why you have brought me here? Or can I just say, 'Actually, Senator Ma'am, I do know why you called me here and I have no intention to caving in to your demands and not so subtle threats'?"

There was some more laughter, though more subdued than before, in the chamber, but it was enough to cause Senator Bauxer's face to twitch slightly.

Sitting a couple seats away from Bauxer, Senator Arlen Kinsey, a Republican from Texas, chuckled. "I apologize for the hostile actions of my colleague, Mr. Flynn," he said. "However, I will be blunt and to the point. Is it true that you seized all research conducted by the late Doctor Aaron Saunders?"

"Define 'seized', Senator. Did I take their research after his death and keep it for myself? No, I did not. I am no thief. Did I relocate his research and lock it down in a secure location to prevent certain opportunistic parties from sinking their greedy little claws into it? Yes, I did, and it will remain that way until-"

"What right do you have to do that?" Bauxer snapped, cutting him off.

David blinked for a moment and seemed a little confused. "I'm sorry, Senator Ma'am," he said, "but I was under the impression that I was answering a question from the Senator from Texas. Give me a moment to answer his question and you'll be allowed to resume your interrogation." He ignored the murmurs from the people behind him, but returned his attention to Kinsey. "As I was saying, Senator Kinsey, I locked the information down and it will unavailable to anyone, including myself, until things are legally settled on the matter."

"I see," Senator Kinsey replied.

_No you don't,_ David thought, _you and the other far right nutjobs are just as greedy for Saunders' research as Bauxer and the other Utopia sycophants are...you're just being nice about it which is strange given the fact that you don't like novas much._

"If you don't mind me asking the same question my esteem colleague tried to ask," Kinsey continued, "by what authority do you have to lock down Saunders research?" He held up a hand to prevent David from responding. "This is not an attack on you, son," he said, "I believe your answer will settle some of the issues and allow us to move on and avoid complications that could tie up these proceedings."

David smiled. "Of course, Senator," he replied. _Oh very good, Kinsey. You may be an asshole bigot, but you played that smoothly and perfect. I wonder if you'd be willing to suspend your hatred for novas just long enough to play a game of chess with me; I may win, but I think you would be a brutal opponent. _"As some of you may or may not know, I was the last person who conducted a business deal with the late Doctor Saunders."

"What kind of a business deal?"

"It was in regards of purchasing some of his technological developments to use in the BioSphere 2 project we bought in Arizona recently," David honestly replied. "I am quite confident that some of his advances, along with our own technology and research, can get the project back online and fully working." He pushed a small pile manila folders on the table in front of him. "Here are some hardcopies of that give you a breakdown of what he was helping me work on. Further information on the project can be provided as requested."

A clerk walked over, took the folders off the table, then walked over and handed them to Senator Kinsey who took a folder and passed the others to his fellow Senators. After taking a few seconds to open the folder and thumb through a few of the enclosed documents, he looked back up at Flynn. "We will have to have to go over these documents, but they do seem to be in order," he said. "However, that doesn't explain why you 'locked down' Saunders research."

"I really don't see what else I could do, Senator," David said. "I mean, if a crime were committed in an area that you were working in, wouldn't it make sense to lock it down and not touch anything until the proper authorities investigated the scene?"

"Yes," Kinsey replied, "but that is for a physical crime scene."

"And that doesn't also apply to intellectual properties created by the deceased?" David asked.

"Well, by the proper authorities," Kinsey said, "but you are not them."

"No," David admitted, "which is why I reported my action to the NSA and the Director of that agency took direct control of that situation. If you want to get technical, I just locked the room and handed the key to the NSA. Once their investigation is concluded, the locked research will be released and I'll be free to turn it over to the parties who have rightful claim to it."

"If you don't mind me asking," said a black man with glasses and a goatee, "does that mean you are researching the technology yourself?"

It took David a moment to recognize the Libertarian Senator from Michigan. "Actually, Senator McDuffie, I do have some of Doctor Saunders' research, but that was from an earlier meeting and that was a lawful business transaction. You could say that what I have could be the 'cliff notes' version of his research, which means base theory and crude prototype schematics. I have no doubt the rest of his research will blow me away once I'm allowed to look at it."

"If you're allowed to look at it." Senator Kennedy shook his head and chuckled. "Mr. Flynn, do you honestly expect us to believe that you haven't taken a glimpse at that research and are not working on your own version of the late Doctor Saunders' work? After all, you are a nova who possesses mega-intelligence..."

David cut him off. "Actually, Senator Kennedy, I am being honest with you. While I know that honesty is a foreign concept to yourself and about eighty percent of your colleagues here on Capitol Hill, I still put value in it. I gave you my word on that and you'll just have to trust me on that. Of course, if you really want to push things, you could always call in NSA Director Dicker."

Kennedy was about to say something, but McDuffie cut him off. "That will not be necessary, Mr. Flynn. We do have the information provided by the NSA director. The hearing is meant to be an inquiry regarding the status of Doctor Saunder's research, this not," he glanced briefly at Kennedy for a moment, "I repeat, this is not meant to be a pissing contest by anyone."

"Understood, Senator," David said with a nod. Though he didn't care much for the others on the panel, he did have some respect for Senator McDuffie and Senator Callahan from Indiana. _Then again, _he thought, _McDuffie and Callahan are probably the least corrupt out of the bunch...Bauxer and Kennedy are obviously toadies for Utopia, most of Kinsey's recent campaign money comes from the Church of Michael and other anti-nova groups, and Senator Cole is just a power hungry asshole._

"Just one final question before we conclude this session, Mr. Flynn." David inwardly groaned as he looked at the smug expression on the face of Senator Cole from South Carolina. "Is your company developing weapons?"

That question caught David by surprise. Actually, he wasn't surprised that someone asked it, but he was expecting it to come from Kennedy or the Bauxer bitch. The question also got some surprised murmurs and whispers from the spectators. David glanced over his shoulder to look at Null who was sitting a few feet behind him and nodded at him. Null quietly got up and started to walk towards the exit as David turned to reface the Senators waiting for his answer.

_Okay, this is where we get brutal and bloody. I just hope my little bombshell will end this game...if I set them up right._

"Oookay," he said, leaning back in his chair and giving Senator Cole a curious look. "I'll fall for the bait on this trap...what are you talking about, Senator Cole? Or should I assume you've been helping yourself to Senator Kennedy's private liquor stash?"

This got some laughter from the crowd and a sharp look from Kennedy, while McDuffie merely shook his head and obviously tried not to smile. However, Cole was calm and collected. "I'll ask again, Mr. Flynn, are you developing weapons at your company?"

"That would be a 'No', Senator," David replied.

"However, we've seen some of those Youtube videos that one Zoe Kilmarten put up a few months ago that seem to be to the contrary. I do believe she is using some devices of your design to blow things up."

"Ah," David said, giving the man a patronizing nod, "you're talking about the plasma launcher and the magnetic accelerator."

"Is that what you call them?"

"Yeah...but they're not weapons...though, if I were to mass produce them and sell them...they could be easily used as weapons after a few modifications. But guess what, I'm not into producing weapons or selling them."

"At this time," Bauxer added.

David glared at the woman. "And what is that supposed to mean?" he asked.

"Your father was weapons a designer and sold his designs world wide," Bauxer replied, her smile reminding David of a cross between a zombie and great white shark. "Maybe the apple doesn't fall far from the tree; after all, you own some stock in Pine Industries as well."

"Oh," David said, raising an eyebrow, "you want to play THAT game, Senator? Seriously? Yes, I do have a small amount of stock in my father's company, but my share is small compared to what other stockholders have. Keep in mind, the government seized Pine Industries eight years ago during an investigation. Shortly after that, it was restructured and, if I remember right, there's quite a few stockholders in that company now who happen to be colleagues of yours." Then his eyes narrowed as his mind accessed Pine Industries stock accounts and pulled up a list of major investors. "In fact, Senator Ma'am, I do believe YOU happen to have stock in that company and you happen to have other investments that I'm sure your constituents would be interested in."

Bauxer's face paled slightly and she leaned back in her chair.

_Okay, that should bring that bitch to heel and tell her to leave me alone._

"Be that as it may, Mr. Flynn," Senator Cole said, "you have not denied the fact that you have built devices that could be used as weapons."

"They're only weapons if the wrong person gets their hands on them, Senator Cole," David fired back, "which basically means people like you won't be getting a hold of them."

"We're the United States government, Mr. Flynn," Cole said, "we have a right to-" He stopped in mid-sentence when the Senate chamber door opened and Null walked in with a dark haired young woman wearing a black skirt and a silk blouse. "What is the meaning of this?" he asked as the young woman walked over to David's table and sat down next to him. "Mr. Flynn, who is this woman?"

David smiled at Cole which irritated the man, but it was Senator Kinsey's reaction that surprised him. The senator from Texas was looking at Bridgette, his face a turning a deeper shade of pale than Bauxer's. _Interesting, Senator Kinsey, you know who this woman is and you clearly weren't expecting to see her...now why is that?_

"My apologies, Senators," he said as he stood up out of his chair. "I have not been entirely truthful with you. Oh, don't get me wrong, I didn't exactly lie to you...but I did leave some things out. May I explain?"

"That would be greatly appreciated, Mr. Flynn," Senator McDuffie said before looking to address Bridgette. "Miss Saunders, it would appear that reports of your death were exaggerated."

Bridgette nodded and leaned forward to speak into the microphone. "I'm still alive, Senator, and I'm coping the best I can."

David gave her a reassuring nod, then he looked back at the Senators. "Senators, may I be allowed to explain?"

"That would be greatly appreciated, Mr. Flynn," Senator McDuffie said, preempting whatever comment Senator Bauxer was about to make. "Just try to make it brief."

"Very well." David leaned back in his chair and folded his hands together on the table. "As you know, there was an incident at Doctor Saunders' lab and he was killed. His daughter, Bridgette, who is also an expert in the field of robotics, was there when they were attacked by a group of unknown gunmen. She managed to survive the explosion by getting to one of the emergency shelters, but she was a little banged up. Upon arriving at the scene, I happened across her and, under the advice of the Director of the NSA, I kept her survival a secret. During that time, I also locked down any of the late Doctor Saunders' research to prevent the wrong people from getting their hands on it."

He paused for a moment to let that last sentence sink in. He could tell that Senators Cole, Bauxer, and Kinsey knew that he was referring to them.

_Oh, it must really suck for you three, having a little punk like me call you out like this. But there's nothing you can do about it and you know it._

"And what, exactly, do you intend to do with the research?" McDuffie asked.

"As I said, I intend to keep it locked down until the NSA concludes its investigation. After which, I'll freely hand it over to the people who know how to handle it."

"So you do intend to hand it over to the proper authorities," Kennedy said.

David shrugged. "I guess, if you consider Ms. Saunders here the 'proper authority'. After all, she did help her father develop that technology."

"Excuse me?" Bauxer hissed.

"Okay," David said, "what part of 'who is also an expert in the field of robotics' did you not get, Senator Ma'am?" David fought the urge to laugh at the woman who was clearly agitated at the way he poked fun at her title.

_Normally, I wouldn't be able to get away with this, but after my little clash with Utopia and the fallout from the incidents in Mexico City and Houston, Bauxer knows that she can't flex her political muscle too much or I might try digging up some dirt on her. Same goes for Kennedy, but I really couldn't damage him too much if I wanted to...after all, he's already gotten away with killing a woman...though I suppose he'll be leaving office in the next decade...I just hope I'm still alive to see it happen._

He then looked over at Senators Kinsey and Cole.

_Kinsey looks like he's about to have a heart attack and it's not because of me...could he have been somehow connected to the attack on Bridgette and her father? Cole...he just looks pissed...okay, time to twist the knife._

He stood up out of his chair and leaned slightly on the table. "The point I'm trying to make here, Senators, is that the technology does not belong to me and that I was merely keeping it safe until I was certain the rightful owner of it was alive. In other words, you summoned me here to demand that I hand over something I don't own."

"We didn't know that Ms. Saunders was alive," Senator Cole snapped. "You deliberately kept this from us."

"No," David said, slowly shaking his head. "I was planning on bringing her to this hearing the whole time, but I will admit that it was fun watching four of you make fools of yourselves while the other two were forced to endure what I believe Senator McDuffie called 'a pissing contest'."

"Watch your tone young man or-"

"Or what, Senator Bauxer," David chuckled, "you'll make my life unpleasant? Let me be blunt with you, ma'am. Your masters at Utopia, the people you get a large chunk of your funding and the occasional kickback from, tried that route and I sent them packing. Right now, they have far more serious issues to deal with, so you won't be able to rely on them for support. After you saw what I did to them at the UN, do you really think I'm afraid of a little pathetic career bureaucrat like yourself?"

"You little shit!" Bauxer snarled as she stood up out of her chair. "You think this is a fucking game..."

She was cut off by Senator McDuffie who banged a gavel on the table. "Ladies and Gentlemen, this hearing is now over. Mr. Flynn, you are free to leave."

"What!?" Bauxer turned on McDuffie. "You can't be serious."

"Senator Bauxer, please get a grip," McDuffie said before turning back to David. "Mr. Flynn, we will be talking again."

David smiled and gave the man a mock salute. "Whatever you say, Senator," he said. However, inwardly, he winced. _Out of all of them, McDuffie is probably the one guy I'm worried about. He actually is about law and order and clamping down on corruption...I will definitely have to be careful with this guy because he could legally make my life miserable and probably get away with it._

He reached down and pulled out Bridgette's chair for her as she stood up. "Well, that was fun," he said, smiling at her as they started to walk towards the exit, wading their way through various people while Null did his best to shield David and Bridgette from them.

"I think you enjoyed yourself too much there," Bridgette said.

"Maybe you're right," David admitted. Then he stopped to talk to one man just getting up out of chair. "Hey, Mr. Hardball Matthews...one word for you: 'Lanolin', not as greasy as Vaseline and it won't ruin your grip." He laughed as he walked away, ignoring the obscenities being hurled at him by the MSNBC anchor. Then he noticed that Bridgette was glaring at him as they walked out the door of the Senate Chamber. "What?"

"You really are a prick, aren't you?"

"Yeah, well, it can't be helped," David said. Then his smile faded. "Did you happen to see the look on Kinsey's face when you walked in?" he asked.

"Yes," Bridgette replied. "Though I must admit his reaction was not surprising given the fact that my presence pretty much indicated that they had no right to attempt to demand you to turn over what is technically my property."

"There is that, but I think there's more to it."

Bridgette looked at him, a curious look on her face. "What is it?"

"Let's get to the car first."

A few minutes later, they were in a limo Null had rented. David waited until Null started driving, then pulled a tiny cube out of his jacket and pressed a tiny button on it. The cube glowed a faint light blue color for a moment and Bridgette shuddered slightly, her body briefly morphing back to its chrome state before resuming her human form.

"I wish you didn't do that," Bridgette said. "It didn't feel comfortable."

"Sorry about that, but I didn't want anyone listening in on this conversation. Thanks to this jammer, we should be safe from their surveillance." He set the device on the seat between them. "About Kinsey, what do you know about him?"

"What is there to know about him?" Bridgette asked. "He's one of the more conservative Republicans in the Senate, but that's to be expected. I'm sure he is one of those people you are concerned about when it comes to weaponizing my father's technology."

"He is," David said, "but even so, I think his reaction to you was far more than just surprise at you showing up."

"What do you mean?"

"This may sound crazy, but I'm getting the feeling that he wasn't expecting you to still be alive."


	8. Alliances

Disclaimer: Aberrant, owned by White Wolf. The Incredibles, still owned by Pixar. Other elements were borrowed from the old Champions RPG put out by HERO Games. Nano/Bridgette was created by Digimonlantern aka Rubypaladin...

Author's Notes: This is just a filler chapter. Not much here...just laying down some ground work. Also in the process of switching over to a new computer. As usual, thanks to those crazy people who still stick around and read this. Also, Rubypaladin...drop me a line...we need to talk some time.

* * *

"_**Never was anything great achieved without danger."**_

_**-Niccolo Machiavelli**_

* * *

_**Capitol Hill, Washington DC**_

"I gotta' hand it to you, Senator, you got one hell of a view." David turned away from the window that looked out on the Washington Monument and focused his attention on the middle-aged black man who was pouring a couple cups of coffee from a coffee maker sitting on a small table in the corner of the office. "What I don't get is why you aren't ripping me a new one for my 'juvenile' actions at the hearing."

Senator Terrence McDuffie of Michigan handed David one of the cups and then sat down behind his own desk. "Well, I could do that, Mr. Flynn," he replied, pausing for a moment to take a sip from his cup. "But since your act was intentional, I don't see the point in playing around." Then he smiled. "Besides, your antics are rather benign compared to what I've seen since I first took office here two years ago. Compared to most of my colleagues here, you're nowhere near as childish as they are. In fact, I dare say that you're nowhere near the level of Harry Reid."

"Touché," David said before taking a sip of his own drink. "Okay, this is good stuff."

"It's a custom roast I have sent to me by one of my constituents from back home in Detroit. He does his own roasting and I order at least ten bags a month from him."

"Really? You wouldn't mind giving me the address of this place, would you? I have a friend who would definitely be interested." David took another sip of his coffee then sat down in a chair opposite of the Senator. "But you obviously didn't invite me here to have coffee and I doubt you're going to do the whole 'veiled threat' thing that some of your other fellow Senators like to do."

McDuffie shook his head. "No, I did not; and I don't do veiled threats, I'll just threaten you directly."

"Then why am I here?"

"I think you know why, Mr. Flynn, but I'll come out and say it." McDuffie's expression became more serious. "I grew up in Detroit; in my lifetime, I have seen it rise to greatness and then I saw it fall apart and literally turn into a cesspool that one would expect to see in some war-torn country and not in the United States. Many influential people have also seen it happen and, while they sometimes talk about it, aren't willing to do anything about it. The people of Detroit, for many political leaders in this country, are just tools to be used in a political battlefield, nothing more."

"Until Utopia came along with their Millennium City project a few years ago," David added. "Suddenly, it became news. Although, I have to admit, Senator, that I found it odd that you weren't exactly vocal in your support. Oh, you went along with the plan, but I get the impression that you weren't too thrilled with them doing that…why is that?"

"Because I don't like it when the people I represent and care about are just being used as political tools," the senator relied bluntly. "Utopia has been trying to find a way to manipulate the American public into backing them and what better way to do that than this so called altruistic act and do to Detroit like they did with Mexico City. I'm sorry to say this, but it worked too; after all, people want hope and a lot of people fell for it hook, line, and sinker. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for getting whatever help I can for my people, but I still didn't like my hometown being used as a poster-child for some shady organization and their agenda."

"But now, with the catastrophe in Mexico City, Utopia has decided to put their priorities into fixing their 'Crown Jewel of the Americas' and have left your town high and dry," David said. "And my suddenly funneling money into your town must seem very suspect to you."

"Just a little," the Senator said, raising a thumb and forefinger as if to emphasize the point. "And I want an honest answer from you, what are your goals with Detroit?"

David paused a moment before answering. He knew this question would come and he had several rehearsed answers he could give that would placate most politicians.

_But Terrence McDuffie is not one of the usual DC assholes that live in this shithole of a town. He actually cares about the people who elected him…a rarity these days. Fuck it, I'll go with the truth._

"Okay, Senator," he finally said, "I'll admit it; screwing with Utopia is one of the main reasons I'm doing this, but that's not the only one. Someone from your town was very persuasive in his arguments. Like you, he cares about his hometown and, when he made his case, he gave me some very valid reasons to look at investing into it. One of the biggest selling points was the available real estate and manufacturing infrastructure available."

"I take it the individual you're referring to was Kikjak," McDuffie said. "I'm surprised you actually listened to him since he's a Utopia sanctioned nova."

"None of us are perfect, Senator," David countered. "The only thing Mr. Kincaid did was register with Utopia, but he has no desire to join up with them officially and Team Tomorrow would prefer to keep him at arms length. That unique position in the public eye gives him credibility among a lot of people and he knows it." He paused for a moment as he remembered something about Kikjak. "He has a public persona, but I saw through that mask once and I know that Mr. Kincaid is a good man. When the Utopia media vultures moved in when my VP was shot, he was the first to publicly tell them to go fuck themselves. Now, between you and me, I don't think any self-serving Utopia puppet would do something like that if it meant risking his standing."

"And what, exactly, are your plans for Detroit?"

"Pretty much the same with what I've done with the section of Metroville I've moved in to. It's a bargain and what we have planned for that area could be beneficial."

"There are certain elements you might have to deal with."

"Ah, yes." David nodded and smiled at what the Senator was alluding to. "You're talking about the criminal element."

"Not to mention some die-hard Union types who miss the 'good old days'," McDuffie added.

"Again, we're still talking about the criminal element," David chuckled before taking a more somber tone. "Look, the areas I'm initially looking at are abandoned factories and rundown neighborhoods that are neglected. Those so called die-hard Union types haven't done jack shit for the rank and file workers who used to live there and lost their jobs. So when we move in there, you better believe I won't be letting those bastards anywhere near my projects. And if they think they're going to try fomenting some sort of rebellion within the ranks of those I employ…well…they'll be hard pressed to match the benefits I'd be offering."

Then he gave the Senator a predatory grin. "As for the criminal element," he continued with a shrug, "outgoing Mayor Sansweet realized he couldn't rely on the criminal elements of Metroville to make life miserable for me. When you employ some novas who are more than willing to live where they work and have a tendency to injure or maim anyone dumb enough to try hurting them, the criminal element tends to fade away very quickly."

"I think you'll find Mayor Hayden a little friendlier than Mayor Sansweet was," McDuffie said. "But I really want to know your long term goals are."

"Do you mean do I intend to do what the auto companies did by building the town up and then let it all come crashing down?" David shook his head. "No, Senator, where I put roots down, I intend to pretty much stay and build on to. I'm willing to set up some of my operation in Detroit because an opportunity presents itself." Then he shrugged his shoulders again. "And yeah, tweaking Utopia's nose by picking up their slack is a fringe benefit; but make no mistake, my people will be there to stay."

"And what, exactly, do your people plan on doing in Detroit?"

For a moment, David said nothing, instead spending the next few seconds studying the Senator before slowly reaching into his jacket and pulling out a small flash drive. After spending a couple more seconds examining the tiny device, he set it on the Senator's desk. "That, Senator, contains my proposal for what I have planned, but here's the quick and dirty version. As you know, my company has recently purchased the defunct BioSphere 2 project and we have succeeded in getting it back up and running. Due to some technological advances we've developed, it is working properly and we intend to use the BioSphere project as a blueprint for our various site locations. Our site in Detroit will be the first major-scale project, but we also intend to do some manufacturing and some R&D with our partner on that project."

"Partner?" McDuffie raised an eyebrow at that revelation. "Exactly who is this business partner?" he asked before taking another sip of his coffee.

David grinned at the man again. "Bridgette Saunders."

The Senator choked on his drink and almost dropped his coffee cup, but managed to set it down on his desk and regain his composure. "Excuse me," he managed to say, "could you run that by me again."

David's grin got bigger. "I originally planned on working out some sort of deal with the late Doctor Saunders and his daughter; but recent events have convinced Brid- er, Ms. Saunders to relocate her base of operations away their current location."

McDuffie sat there for a moment in stunned silence. "Let me get this straight," he finally said. "One of the few surviving leading scientists in nanotechnology and robotics is relocating their business to Detroit?"

"That would be correct," David replied. "In fact, Bridgette is an equal partner in this project and she will be personally overseeing the Detroit operation." He then looked around for a moment before leaning forward and lowering the tone of his voice slightly. "I think she finds me to egotistical and bigheaded to work with in close quarters."

The Senator smirked at him. "No kidding," he said as he reached out and picked up the flash drive. "And what exactly is on this?"

"Oh, the phased planning for what we intend to do with the area we're in. Look, I'm not going to give you some flowery speech about making Detroit back into what it once was, but that should give you an idea of what we're going to do. Whether or not we honor that promise…well, that is for you to decide."

A half hour later, David had gotten back into the limousine where Bridgette was waiting for him.

"So, how did it go?" Bridgette asked, shifting from what she referred to as her "default chrome humanoid" mode into her human form wearing jeans and a t-shirt.

"You know, you're going to save a fortune on clothing now," David said. He then noted the glare coming from his cousin and sighed. "He agreed to go with the plan, although I think I shocked him when I informed him of your intention to relocate to Detroit. I don't think he saw that coming."

Bridgette smiled, her eyes glowing a faint blue for a moment before returning to normal. "Of course he didn't," she said before adding, "but then, neither did you."

"Yeah," David said, "still can't believe you managed to make yourself an equal partner on that…I must be slipping."

"If you want access to any of my technological developments, you better believe it," Bridgette said, lightly kicking him in the shin. "But seriously, relocating to Detroit makes sense strategically…they do have viable resources that we can use and, as you put it, it was an opportunity we couldn't pass up."

"Okay…exactly how much of our conversation did you eavesdrop on?"

"Well, let's see…your mind is basically linked to just about any electronic network out there…which includes certain technologically enhanced beings like myself…even with your self-created firewalls, it was like hearing you shout out most of your conversation from another room with very thin walls." She paused when she saw the incredulous look she was getting from her cousin. "Okay," she admitted, "so I kind of oozed my way into the ductwork of the building."

"Let me get this straight," David said, his expression suddenly becoming dead serious. "You used your ability to become a liquid puddle of nanites and oozed your way INTO a federal building, bypassed security, and listened in on a private conversation WITH a government official." When Bridgette nodded, David surprised her by suddenly smiling. "Very good, Bridgette," he said, "welcome to the dark and shady, but fun, side of humanity." He leaned forward and helped himself to a bottle of water from the mini-fridge. "You see, you can be sneaky and deceitful…you have plenty of potential."

"I'm glad you feel that way," Bridgette said, answering David's smile with one of his own. "Because I also wanted to inform you that I've hired Shiro on as an R&D lead."

David managed to hide his surprise as he opened the water bottle. "Really," he said before taking a sip, "I guess that's better than him going to one of my competitors. How did you manage to get him to sign on?"

"Told him I needed someone I could trust and was intelligent enough to understand the level of technology we're dealing with. Aside from you and Zoe, he's probably one of the few who can even grasp the AI algorithm coding when it comes to programming nanotech."

David blinked a couple times, a dumbfounded look on his face. "Wow," he said.

"What?"

"I believe you just called the rest of SST a bunch of stupid imbeciles."

"I did not," Bridgette countered, "they're just not as familiar with the field as Shiro is."

"Okay, there is that," David admitted before taking another sip of water.

A cruel smile formed on Bridgette's lips as she watched David take a gulp of water. "And," she added, "the sex is good."

David immediately choked on his water, causing Bridgette to snicker softly as the limo continued on its way to the airport.

* * *

_**Salinger Mills, California**_

"I don't like it," Ryder said, frowning as he looked down at the hillside estate from the helicopter. "It's too open, too easy target from the ground and the air."

Buddy grinned at the young man and shook his head. "Anthony, Anthony, Anthony…you really need to lighten up. You're what, twenty-one?"

"Twenty-three, sir," Ryder replied, briefly glancing in Buddy's direction before pointing at a couple locations. "We might need to put a couple snipers at the north and south end of the grounds and probably have two roving units walking the perimeters at all times."

Once again, Buddy caught himself wondering if the young man looking at him through a pair of mirror shades was a liability or an asset. He knew that behind those shades were the cold dead eyes of a killer. Even the way the young man moved indicated that he was always alert and prepared to pull out a weapon at a moment's notice. While even the most hardened of the Michaelite movement was shaken by the explosion in Houston, Ryder seemed almost undisturbed by the death of his fellow members or the civilian casualties.

"People die, sacrifices are made, and the objective is in reach," the young man had said. That statement chilled many Michaelites and even prompted a fight…that abruptly ended when Ryder calmly pulled out a pistol put a bullet in his would-be attacker's kneecap and then proceeded to put a bullet in the head of the would-be attacker's friend who was foolish enough to attempt pulling out a gun of his own. That incident made Buddy decide to keep the young man in his camp permanently; after all, cold blooded, ruthless, and efficient killers were hard to come by

"Twenty-three," Buddy repeated. "Only twenty-three…you must have had a disturbing childhood to become the kind of person you are today."

"Not really, sir," Ryder replied, "I had a normal childhood, all things considered…I just wasn't allowed to kill people yet, so I stuck with killing various neighborhood pets."

"I see," Buddy said, once again wondering if he made the right decision.

Then the corners of Ryder's mouth tugged upward into a slight smile. "That was a joke, sir," he said, "I've only killed in self-defense or taken out designated targets."

"Ah," Buddy said, not really sure if the boy was telling the truth, "well that's a relief."

The helicopter landed in the front yard of the small mansion. Ryder was the first to exit the helicopter first, weapon drawn. He looked around for a moment before nodding at a couple other armed personnel who came out of the building to greet them. Then he signaled the chopper pilot to cut the engine before walking back to the passenger compartment where Buddy was sitting with an amused look on his face. "We're clear, sir," he said. "Let's get inside."

_Damn, _he thought as he followed Ryder and the other two guards into the mansion, _too bad I didn't have this kid around back when I ran Pine Industries._ A couple minutes later, Buddy and Ryder found themselves standing on the back terrace of the main house overlooking several acres of vineyards.

"If you don't mind me asking," Buddy said to Ryder who stood a few feet off to his right, "why isn't this Salinger guy more active in the movement?"

"Because this Salinger 'guy' isn't a member of the Church, but does support some of its causes." Both Buddy and Ryder turned to see an older man wearing slacks and a golf shirt approach them from another doorway. While the man walked with a cane and had a slight limp, he appeared to be physically fit for his age and Buddy suspected the cane was more for show than actual use.

_Or perhaps it could be used as a weapon._

"I'm Darius Salinger," the old man said, extending his hand towards Buddy in greeting.

The name sounded vaguely familiar and it took Buddy a moment to recognize where he knew it from. Then it hit him.

_Shit…Salinger…as in 'Salinger Arms Development'. This guy's company provides most of the gear now used by PRIMUS. They were also Pine Industries' biggest competition at one point._

Buddy also remembered Salinger's alter-ego, _Firearm. _Before the ban on supers went into effect back in the 80s, Salinger was a soldier of fortune who was known for designing his own weapons and then selling them. It was how Salinger Arms got its start.

He grinned at the man as he shook his hand. "Mr. Salinger," he said, "it's an honor to actually meet you, though I must confess that I am surprised at your involvement in the movement."

The old man chuckled. "I may not buy into your movement, but we do have similar goals." He then paused for a moment, glancing at Ryder and the other guards. "If you don't mind, Mr. Gabriel, can I talk to you alone?"

Buddy momentarily pondered why Salinger wanted to be alone with him until he saw something in the man's eyes…the glint of recognition. And, momentarily, he considered killing the man for that reason alone, but curiosity got the better of him.

_You know who I am, but you want to be alone with me…which means you don't want the others to know that you know._

"Why not?" Buddy said. He then looked over at Ryder who had a concerned look on his face. "It's okay, Ryder," he said. "I doubt Mr. Salinger invited me all the way over here just to kill me."

_Besides, I can always kill the bastard myself if he tries anything._

After a moment of hesitation, Ryder nodded and then led Salinger's guard's of the room, closing the door behind them. For a few seconds, Salinger and Buddy stood there staring at each other in silence, sizing each other up until the old man smiled and shook his head again.

"You know," Salinger said, "for a dead man, you seem to be doing well." He walked over to the mini-bar in the room and pulled out a bottle before looking in Buddy's direction. "Scotch?"

"Oh yeah," Buddy said as he sat down in one of the chairs in the room. "I'm curious, did you always know it was me or did you just recognize me when I got here."

Salinger poured two shot-glasses and handed one to Buddy. "I suspected," Salinger replied. "Unlike the NSA, I didn't buy your death and I found it odd that Project Utopia was cranking out technology that looked vaguely similar to some of your work. In fact, the designs practically had your finger prints all over it."

Buddy took the glass and downed his drink in one gulp, enjoying the warm burning sensation as it went down his throat. "Yeah, I guess it was kind of obvious," he admitted. "So, Darius…you know who I am, but you didn't out me either. I take it this is where you attempt to extort me for your silence?"

Darius laughed. "Really, Pine?" he asked. "What am I going to extort your for? I have money, I have power, and I have influence; there really is no need." He finished off his own drink and set the shot-glass on the mini-bar. "But I also know that while you enjoy killing supers, you're not a religious fanatic bent on carrying out 'The Lord's work' either. I'm more curious what your endgame is."

Once again, Buddy briefly considered killing the man, but there was something in the old man's demeanor that kept making him push that option aside. "Before I answer your question, would you mind telling me why you've thrown in with the Michaelites?"

"Well, I could tell you that the Church of Michael shares some of the beliefs that I subscribe to, but I never considered religious fanatics reliable when it comes to the big picture. However, they make useful tools."

"Indeed they do," Buddy said, nodding in agreement. "And what big picture are you looking at, Darius?"

"I'm not a politician, Pine. I'm an arms dealer and businessman, very much like yourself. People like us don't rule the world in the open. We're the kingmakers and powerbrokers, the so called 'powers behind the throne' if you want to get all metaphorical. An organization like Aeon and its pet Utopia project has made things difficult for people like us, but I don't need to tell you that, do I?"

Buddy thought about it for a moment and shook his head. "No, you don't," he replied. "I'm certain a lot of your colleagues have suffered under, have been eliminated by, or perhaps even defected to Aeon to save their own skin." Then the realization hit him. "But you…you're still around and you're still kicking…the last of the old guard as it were."

"Pretty much." Salinger poured himself another glass. "I won't lie to you, Pine," he said as he picked up the glass shook the glass slightly, causing the liquid within to swirl around. "I know how dangerous you can be and I know that when you're done, there are going to be a lot of dead and the playing field will be radically different when the smoke finally clears. What I want to know is how far do you intend to go and will people like me have a place in the new order?"

"Let me put it this way, Darius," Buddy said, "it will be a free and open market once again. Granted, the world might be drastically changed by it but, as you put it, the world will still need 'kingmakers' and powerbrokers. I can't promise that I won't turn on you eventually, but I wouldn't mind the competition."

Salinger raised his glass in a salute. "Now that," he chuckled softly, "is something I can drink to."


	9. Interlude: Oh what a night

Disclaimer: Don't own Aberrant or The Incredibles. White Wolf owns one, Brad Bird and Pixar own the other.

Author's Notes: Okay, trying a different writing style when writing Bomber. I toyed with making this a standalone fic, but I think this will work out. Keep in mind, this sort of jumps back and forth from Bomber's first person point of view and jumps back to the standard format when writing Violet's part of the encounter. I hope this doesn't confuse too many people. This chapter takes place while David is out of town in DC.

* * *

Ah, Metroville, you gotta' love this town!

I'm standing atop one of the tallest buildings in the city at night, watching the traffic go by down below. It's beautiful, you know that? A swirling sea of light and sound illuminates the night for at least a few miles; the sound of traffic, people, and the machinery coming off the docks at the city port…I can see it all and hear it all. I can feel a light breeze blowing across my neck and, when I sniff the air, I can smell all sorts of things…some good, some bad.

I look down below and study the neon sea, listening for a moment as I stretch out my arms. Then I tilt my head back and close my eyes for a moment, counting backward from five.

_Five._

_Four._

_Three._

_Two._

_One._

And then I allow myself to fall forward.

I've heard some experts say that free falling tends to cause cardiac arrest in most people and they die before impact. I'm really not too sure about that. If that were the case, most skydivers would probably die before pulling their chutes. Of course, it could be that those who experienced a heart attack in free fall were unwilling participants and falling without a chute. In that case, I can see where the so called "experts" might be right about those people dying from fright before they hit the ground, but I'm sure there might be exceptions.

Not only that, I'm certain they don't actively test their theories by routinely throwing people from a great height and talking to them via radio as they fall to their deaths.

"_As you plummet to your death, what are you experiencing? Tell me how you feel."_

"_AUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUuuuuu uuuGH…*SPLAT*"_

Um…no, I really don't see that happening.

As for myself, the impact won't kill me, but it would hurt like hell and the next couple days would be painful as my body parts regenerated and re-integrated themselves. You ever been to a hospital and the doctor gives you a smiley face chart on a scale of one to ten to describe the level of pain you're experiencing? In my case, a ten would have the face looking like it was turned into hamburger and someone poured sulfuric acid on it afterwards; that would be the kind of pain I would be in. Needless to say, my threshold is a lot higher than the human norm; but, to be honest, I don't have any intention of becoming road pizza. Been there, done that, and I have the videos to prove it.

I feel a slight tug on the harness I'm wearing as the glider-pack deploys, then my whole body is jerked back out of free fall as the now deployed glider catches some air. I reach up and pull the guide cords on the shoulder straps of my harness which turns my free fall into a controlled guide and gains me back some altitude. An exhilarated whoop escapes my mouth as I buzz by City Hall. I see the light on in the mayor's office and I cheerfully give whoever is in there the finger as I fly by.

I used to hate this city, but I think it's improving despite the shitty turn of events that have happened around the world in the last month. With the recent round of political elections behind us, the fat pig known as Mayor Oliver Sansweet is on his way out and Mayor-Elect Lucius Best will be taking over in January. Normally, I don't care much for politicians, but Lucius Best gave me an offer that I couldn't refuse.

Okay, actually, that's not true. I COULD have refused his offer, but the alternative would have been turning me over to Project Utopia and I'd probably be dead within a day or two. Oh, I probably could have escaped Utopia custody, but then I'd be on the run and all my enemies would be gunning for me. Normally, that wouldn't bother me, because I know who my enemies are and I can deal with them. However, I apparently pissed off some powerful people recently, people who I don't know but have enough power to keep themselves out of the public spotlight and are able to send out unknown supers who look like younger versions of deceased heroes from the past to kill me.

Oh, and let's not forget my mysterious employer who originally put me here and put a nasty device in my head that would flambé me if I deviated from his directions.

Now, a normal person would say, "Dude, that's seriously fucked up." And you know what, it is…but that's pretty much the way it is and, at the moment, I don't have much choice but go along with it, roll with it, and then try to change the rules of the game when I get a chance. I know it's a gamble, but the odds are in my favor. The world tends to go crazy and take an unpredictable turn when I'm dragged into the mix.

Now, I know what you're thinking. You're probably thinking, "Jean, that's pretty conceited and arrogant of you" or maybe you're thinking that I'm just asking fate, God, or whatever deity people believe in to seriously go medieval on me with a baseball bat wrapped up with electrified barbed wire. And honestly, you may be right about that on both points. No, I'm not a conceited and arrogant jerk with a death wish, but I truly think that I'm important enough to someone that they are going to a lot of trouble to take me down.

My problem is that I don't know who these new players are. I'm also aware that I'm being used as a pawn in somebody's power play and, while I may be forced to play my part in this sick little game, you better believe this pawn is looking for a way to fuck with the system from inside the game to turn things to his advantage.

Mayor-Elect Best sees things that way as well, but I know he's got his own agenda. However, since his agenda doesn't seem to include trying to kill me and he's willing to back me up against whoever's targeting me, that goes a long way with getting me to go along with him. He, along with a few others, seems to see, or at least sense, that something big is coming on the horizon and it scares the hell out of him. To be honest, it scares me too because I still don't have a clue what it is and part of me is screaming that I really don't want to know.

However, tonight, as I fly across the city skyline…I'm letting it go for a little bit and enjoying the moment as the world seems to slow down to a crawl around me.

_This is it,_ I think to myself, _one of those "perfect" moments…don't blow it…just enjoy it…don't let anything happen to fuck it up-_

My perfect moment is interrupted by a purplish colored flare of energy that erupts in front of me, knocking me off my course and causing me to lose control. Desperate, I tug at the control cords and managed to make a controlled descent towards the top of one of the buildings. When, I'm close enough, I push a button on the right shoulder strap and the glider-pack almost instantly retracts as I hit the ground and roll with the impact before coming back up into a crouch.

* * *

Violet hadn't planned on going anywhere tonight. Due to her current situation, she didn't feel like she could go back to her family's house without having to deal with the arguments coming from her mother and one of her brothers. In fact, her whole family was still traumatized from what happened a couple weeks ago, but she couldn't blame them. After all, she had been shot by a sniper round that was meant for David. Some of her family members blamed David for what happened and she could understand that on some level, but she felt her mother and Dash's opinions were tainted by the fact they couldn't distinguish David from his father.

Oddly enough, her father, though angry at what had happened, didn't blame David. However, she got the impression that there was something else that David had done that had her father at least a little wary of the young man. "Vi," he had told her, "I have no doubt that David sees you as a friend and cares about you, but you have to understand that, in some ways, he is worse than his father." When asked what he exactly meant by that, her father hesitantly explained it. "Buddy Pine didn't have friends, Vi, he had employees and underlings; and that's all he saw them as. David, from what I understand, knows each and every one of you. He sees you as his friends and people he cares about, but there's more to it than that. I'm not saying that he sees you as his minions or property, but he's very possessive to the point that I think he tends to be overprotective and might retaliate in a way that could be considered overkill."

Violet laughed and assured her father that he was reading too much into it, but she could tell from one look in his eyes that he knew something and that caused her to remember some of the other things David had done in retaliation when any of his people were threatened. She had to fight to suppress a shudder at that scary thought and, yet, she couldn't help thinking that it was kind of nice that David was watching out for those he cared about…even though his actions tended be a little ruthless and vindictive.

Her youngest brother, Jack, was the real enigma to her. Yes, the brat was only nine, but there was something in the way boy acted that told Violet that he knew something as well but wasn't saying.

So Violet decided the best course of action was to lay low and stay at her suite in SST which was starting to become more of a home than she could have ever imagined. Though she was still planning on attending classes at UC Met, she had pretty much moved out of her dorm and relocated to SST. In fact, it was surprising how homey the place did feel. Unfortunately, she was getting tired of all the concerned looks she was getting from everyone, including Zoe, who seemed to be accepting her as a friend…or at least not as an enemy.

The only person who didn't act like they were walking on eggshells around her was David, but he was still worried about her. And there was something else…

"_I need you, Vi…"_

"_If things were different…"_

Vi shook her head slightly to banish those memories away. She had told everyone that she didn't remember anything after being shot and it was mostly true. She didn't remember much, but she kept getting flashes of memory from when she was in a comatose state. What she hadn't told anyone was that there were times she should hear the people in the room briefly. One of those things was David's confession to her and that rocked her to the core.

_And if Zoe knew that, she would be very pissed._

Part of her was a little shaken as well at David's feelings for her, but she also knew that David was a realist and that he was right. There was too much bad blood between him and her family and that made any kind of intimate relationship impossible.

_And if Dad didn't kill him, Zoe would._

So, with going home to the family being ruled out as an option and staying around and dealing with the sympathetic looks from her co-workers not being preferable either, Violet decided she needed a nice long run.

She never considered herself a serious runner. Sure, she took a morning jog and did a couple miles about three or four times a week, but it was nothing like she was doing now. So now, here she was, running across roof tops, jumping down fire-escapes, and running down sidewalks and alleyways at the pace of an Olympic sprinter. While she had considered herself in fairly good shape before, it was obvious that the biological "upgrades" from the Saunders' nanotech had done more than heal her injuries.

She had run a good forty-five minutes before she came to a stop atop of an old factory building near the waterfront.

_Interesting,_ she thought as she looked out at the bay. _Going all out like that for forty-five minutes would leave me tired and gasping for breath in the past. I'm not even slightly winded and have barely broken a sweat._

Then she frowned as another thought hit her.

_When I was younger, people used to think I was freak…some of them probably still do. I wonder what they'd make of me now._

Richard Dicker of the NSA had some of their people for a physical checkup and she wasn't sure if she liked what she overheard when one of the scientists gave her report.

"The subject has demonstrated enhanced reflexes, increased cognitive functions, and her physical stamina has at least increased by another eighty percent."

Violet was very relieved when the NSA team left SST…she didn't like being treated as if she were a lab rat under observation.

_It's bad enough that they were treating me as if I were some abnormal freak of nature, but now some of the others at SST are starting to wonder about me…it…_

Her thoughts trailed off as a shadow passed over her, causing her to look up and see someone flying overhead in some sort of mini hang glider. Two thoughts occurred to her as she saw the man flying overhead. One, her eyes allowed her to see things clearly at night as she could during the day. The other thing she realized was that she recognized the young man flying overhead as one of her more annoying foes.

_Actually, he's more Dash's foe than mine. He keeps hitting on me whenever we meet, even when we're on opposite sides. No matter…if he's here…he can't be up to any good. Although…why isn't he wearing his usual armor?_

She silently followed the man she knew as Bomber, waiting until he was over a relatively flat surface, and then threw up a solid force-field wall in front of him, knocking him out of the sky.

* * *

As I roll into a crouch, my first thought is; _Okay, what the hell just hit me?_

The second thought is my mind assessing the facts. _Okay, I'm in Metroville, I get hit with a purplish blast of energy…no…wait…I flew INTO a purplish blast of energy which means…_

My thoughts are interrupted as I see a familiar female shape step out of the shadows.

_Hello hot babe in leather! Wait! That's Violet…no wait she's Spectrurm…Hello! Hot babe in leather, are we going to pass this up!?_

"Um, hey, Vi," I manage to say. "Um…you're looking hot…er..better…yes, better! I meant to say 'better'." I mentally slap myself for making that slip of the tongue.

"Renard," she replies with a slight nod. "If you don't mind me asking, where's your armor?"

"Um…night off," I say, wondering if she was preparing for a fight.

_If there's a God, yes!_

I shove my libido back to the corner of my mind. "And may I ask why 'Spectrum' is not in uniform today?"

_Not that I'm complaining!_

Shut up.

Violet smirks at me. "Actually, taking some time to recover," she says as we slowly start to circle each other. I can already tell by the look on her face that she's sizing me up and looking for a chance to strike. "I went through some tough times recently."

"Yeah." I nod in agreement, waiting for her attack. "I heard you took a sniper round…had me worried there for a bit."

* * *

Bomber's response caused Violet to hesitate for a moment. From the tone of his voice and the look on his face, she was almost convinced that he meant what he said even as they circled each other.

_Just remember he's a professional mercenary,_ she reminded herself as she waited for him to attack. _The fact that he's here says that he's on a job...even if he's wearing normal clothes…whoa, he really is built…guess the armor wasn't exaggerating that._

Violet mentally slapped herself for that last thought.

_Head in the game, Vi…stop checking him out and be ready for whatever he's got up his sleeve._

"You were actually worried about me?" she asked, not quite believing his act of concern.

"Well, yeah," Jean…no…Bomber, he was Bomber, not Jean-Paul Renard, replied. "I know we're technically enemies, but-"

"Technically enemies," Violet repeated, cutting him off. "The last time you were here, you tried to kidnap someone and punched out my brother."

"Oh, c'mon, I always punch out your brother," Bomber said. "He takes the beating while I hit on you…then you usually hit me with a forcefield bubble whil-oof!"

Violet chuckled as she had a force-field bubble the size of a basketball knock Bomber off his feet and send him rolling across the rooftop. "You mean like that?" she asked as Bomber started to stagger back to his feet.

"Um, yeah," Bomber replied, rubbing his chest. "Ow, Vi…that actually hurt more than normal. Did you get a power boost recently?"

Violet noticed the actual pain on his face and realized that she did hit him a little harder than she usually did. "Something like that," she admitted. "You should have worn your armor on this job."

"Not on a job, Vi," Bomber said. "I'm just enjoying a night off."

"You expect me to believe that?" she asked, giving him a suspicious look.

"Well, no," Bomber confessed. Before Violet could react, he flung something in her direction and she was blinded by a white flash as the tiny flash-bang went off a moment later. "But I really don't want to deal with this tonight," she heard him say.

Though she was blind (thanks to her newly enhanced night vision, she was seeing nothing but black and white spots), Violet instinctively shifted her weight and brought her arms up before the first blow hit. She rolled with the impact, coming back up and raising a force-field encased arm which jerked from the follow-up kick. However, she was surprised that she felt the leg still touching her arm.

"Whoa, okay…I'll admit that was pretty cool," she heard Bomber say. "Scary, but still cool." It took her a couple more seconds to blink away the black and white spots before she saw Bomber standing in front of her on one leg while his other was extended out in mid-kick, his foot pushing against the force-field surrounding her arm. Instead of following up on his attack, he brought his leg down and slowly backed away a few feet. "You never were able to pull that kind of trick before," he said, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"Went through a lot of changes lately," Vi shot back at him.

"Um, yeah," Bomber replied, tilting his head his eyes briefly glanced down and a smile formed on his face, "I can see that."

"My eyes are up here, Jean," Violet snapped when she realized that he was checking her out.

Bomber arched an eyebrow. "Jean?" he repeated with a smirk on his face and she cursed herself for that slip of the tongue. "What happened to 'Bomber' or 'Renard'? Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining." He removed the strange pack he was wearing and then took off his jacket. "So you're body went through some changes, huh?" he asked as he pulled a pair of battle-staves out his jacket.

"What are you doing?" Violet asked. Part of her was worried about what he intended and yet another part of her…caused her to shudder slightly in anticipation.

Bomber twirled one of the staves in his hand and grinned at her. "Let's see what you're truly capable of." Then he suddenly charged her, attacking at full strength, and everything became a blur as she instinctively reacted.

* * *

Okay, I'm officially freaked out at the moment…and more than a little turned on by this. First off, Violet, while a competent fighter, was nowhere near the level she is at now. Sure, she had the skills, but the muscle memory and stamina weren't all there. That force-field blast she hit me with also had a little more kick than she usually cranks out, but I don't think she realizes it. Whatever they did to heal her up, it did more than just heal her…it improved her.

_And she looks hotter than ever!_

Shut up…I'm trying to fight here. Curious, I want to see how much she is capable of, so I'm going all out on her. The only warning she got was the one I gave her before I charged forward with my battle-staves in hand. She manages to dodge the first couple strikes and even manages to throw a couple defensive jabs back at me, but she's not ready as I swing one of my staves at her chest. She doesn't have the time or the speed to block the blow with her hands…but my blow is blocked by a glowing purple cylinder of energy that suddenly materialized into existence.

"What the hell?" I ask as I step back and duck a swing before bringing up the stave in my left hand to block Violet's attack. That's when I notice that she has a glowing stave of her own in each hand. "Okay…that's new," I admit as I duck down and sweep her feet out from under her. She drops to the ground and semi-clumsily rolls up into a crouch and I realize what's up with her. She doesn't have the training and her body doesn't have the muscle memory, but she has speed and instinct which is allowing her to hold her own against me.

"Oh, I'm full of surprises," she says as she lunges forward with a smirk on her face.

_Okay, now she's getting cocky…there's my opening._

I duck the kick she sends in my direction and step with in her arc as she tries to swing one of the staves at my head. I drop my shoulder and block the blow, my weight shoving her back against a wall. I don't like putting all my strength into it, but I now know she can take the damage I want to stun her just long enough to make my escape. I almost wince as her spine hits the wall and she let's out a startled gasp. Her concentration is broken and she drops both of her battle staves which dissipate into nothingness while I use the stave in my right hand to hold her neck against the wall.

I take one look in her eyes, though, and I know she's not about to give up. In fact, I know I've got maybe a few seconds before she breaks out of the hold and resumes the fight…although, if I didn't know any better, she seems to be enjoying herself. Of course, the smirk on her face is kind of a giveaway on that.

"Okay, I think we need to call it a night," I say, "before I do something I regret."

_Kiss the girl._

Shut up.

_Kiss. The. Girl._

"Aw," Violet sounds a little disappointed. "And I thought we were having so much fun."

By now, my inner voice is screaming at me.

_**KISS THE GIRL, DAMMIT!**_

It takes all my effort to silence that voice, because I'd do more than just kiss her if I gave in to that impulse and I really don't want to get into that kind of trouble. Her father would probably kill me if he found out.

"What can I say," I say as I lower my stave and step away from her. "I have that annoying conscience thing that keeps me from-MMPHFH!"

I didn't see that coming. One moment I'm about to walk away from her before I do something stupid, then she's suddenly up against me, arms wrapped around my neck and kissing me. What's worse is that I'm not even stopping it. Instead, we go at it for a few seconds before she pulls away.

"Shut up," she says, putting a finger against my lips for a moment before tracing a line down my chest. "Just enjoy the moment…"


	10. Ch-ch-ch-changes I

Disclaimer: Don't own the Incredibles, don't own Aberrant. They are owned by Pixar and White Wolf respectively. Gregory Paladino was created by a member of the Plothook crew (Thank you for letting me use your character, GP...I didn't think he'd turn into a major player here, but he did). Lloyd Robertson and Lisa LeFlamme are...well...their own properties, but since this is a fictional alternate reality, I can only hope they are the halfway decent people I sort of portray them here (and having met Lloyd once, he actually is a funny and likable guy).

* * *

"_Let me explain this in clear and plain English: I am not going anywhere. When it is time for me to retire, I will retire; but now is definitely not the time. Despite the tragedy that has hit us, it is our job to continue on and do what the public has entrusted us to do. We aren't just talking heads who answer to some corporate or political concern; some of my contemporaries may believe that, but not I and I can assure you that mindset is not welcome here at CTV. It is our job to tell the people the truth, no matter how ugly it can be. There are some networks just south of the border here…I will not name names…who believe in spinning the truth, watering it down, dumbing it down, or just outright lie about it to control the masses. It's not happening here…not on my watch."_

-Lloyd Robertson at a press conference shortly after retaking control of CTV News.

"_That old fossil should have had the good grace to retire or just outright die. His ideals died out a long time ago and he needs to join the twenty-first century."_

-Sandra Raldo, former CTV news Director in an interview with N!Channel.

"_Oh, freakin', Can-a-da! Say what you will about our neighbors of the north, at least some of them get it. Lloyd Roberston is back in control at CTV, despite the fact that someone tried to remove him. The Teragen have been cleared (mostly) of the charges behind the attack though the American outlets like MSNBC, ABC, N!Channel, and CNN are still trying to link the group to the incident. Lloyd and his people attempted to tell the truth about Mexico City and someone tried to kill them. But guess what, Utopia lemmings, Lloyd is still alive and he is BACK. Yes, he may be a dinosaur to the progressive industry, but he's still going strong and he is going to fight extinction right to the end. And given who he's got working under him, they'll be carrying out his legacy when he finally does go. Welcome back, Mr. Robertson. For a baseline, you've proven to be a decent person and are willing to look at all sides to a story. You may not have much time left, but we know you'll make life hell for everyone as you claw your way to get to the truth."_

-Anonymous Post, H-Cove, Politics & Media forum.

_Seth Montaine: "Listen, I know you people have had a rough time of it with the alleged attack on your studio and all-_

_Greg Paladino: "Alleged attack? Excuse me? Having just attended a few memorial services, I can assure you that the dead bodies I saw were not from some alleged attack."_

_Seth Montaine: "Be that as it may, you have no proof that Project Utopia was behind it."_

_Greg Paladino: "True, but I find it interesting that the attack happened the day we were about to air our special report on Mexico City. The Teragen had no reason to attack us, though your parent network and others were quick to point fingers at them. While there is no smoking gun implicating your masters, it is rather suspect that someone on their payroll was quick to step in and try to take over CTV while Lloyd was injured and I was on the run."_

_Seth Montaine: "I resent your accusations, sir."_

_Greg Paladino: "And I resent the fact that some inbred idiot actually gave you your own show."_

_Seth Montaine: "Son of a bitch!"_

-A clip of the final airing of the Seth Montaine Show

"_In our 'odd news' category today: Seth Montaine, the guy who replaced Brandi Miller after she was taken off the air, has been suspended indefinitely due to his 'unprofessional conduct' on his most recent show when he actually took a swing at one of his guests. Since the clip has gone viral on Youtube, no amount of Utopia spin can change the fact that Montaine had taken the first swing and that Gregory Paladino had every right to defend himself. Seth Montaine has been unavailable for comment due to the fact that his jaw has been wired shut…wow…guess there is still justice in the world."_

-Newsclip, Rock 107.3, KMRK

"_Coming this January, a new W5 as you've never seen it before. Who…What…Where…When…Why…the five major questions of every news story centering around world events that should be asked. Join our hard-hitting team of investigative reporters as they dare to ask all those questions and look for the real truth behind the events that constantly shape our world."_

-CTV promo for the new "W5 Cutline with Gregory Paladino"

* * *

_**Ottawa, Ontario**_

_**CTV Studios**_

"Whoa, wait…what?" Greg blinked a couple times as he tried to process what he had just been told. "Okay…maybe I heard that wrong. Did I just hear you say that you wanted me to permanently be part of a new W5 program?"

Behind his desk, Lloyd Robertson leaned back in his chair and gave Greg a predatory grin as he shook his head. "Oh no, Mr. Paladino, I don't want you to be part of the new W5 program," he said. "I want you to spearhead it."

"Excuse me?"

Lisa LeFlamme, who was standing off to Lloyd's right and leaning against the wall of his office, snickered at him. "Would you like me to write it down on flash cards in crayon so you can understand?"

Greg responded to Lisa's jab by giving her the middle finger before responding to Lloyd. "Look, Mr. Roberts..er..Lloyd…I appreciate it and all, but I'm not a reporter. I'm just not reporter material."

"Well, you do have a point there," Lisa admitted. "You are a shitty reporter."

"Thank you," Greg said, pointing at Lisa. "See, she backs me up on this."

"Then again," Lisa added, "so was Ted. After all, he was all about getting to the truth and not selling out. He actually had integrity…just like you do."

"Thank you," Lloyd said, his grin getting bigger as he said to Greg, "See, she backs me up on this."

"Whose side are you on, Lisa?"

"The right one," Lisa replied.

"Oh gee, thanks," Greg muttered. "Look, Lloyd, why don't you have her do this instead? No offense, but I'm just a glorified camera guy."

"Because Lisa will be doing more work here at the main studio," Lloyd replied. "After all, I would like to train my replacement for I step down."

The room suddenly fell silent and Greg looked over at Lisa to discover that she was shocked as he was at this revelation. It took him a couple seconds, but he managed to recover enough to speak again. "Replacement?" he asked.

"Stepping Down?" Lisa added.

Lloyd smirked at them and shook his head again. "Look at you two," he said, "I think this is the first time I've seen you both on the same page for a change." Then his expression softened a little. "Look, I'm not running for the door or anything like that, but I think it's time I let you two take over some of the reins because, in case you haven't noticed, I'm not getting any younger and I would like to leave this news bureau in good hands before I do leave."

Again, both Lisa and Greg were speechless for a few seconds.

"Um, again," Greg finally managed to say, "not a reporter."

"You've done embedded work before."

"But that's different. That was mostly me being on the run with a portable camera and trying to explain what was going on while people were shooting the group I was with."

"Um, duh, that's reporting," Lisa snapped.

"Um…no, that was me scared shitless and trying to stay calm by telling everyone tuned in what was going on," Greg countered. "I'm just glad they couldn't see my face because I was sweating bullets most of the time."

"So did Ted," Lisa replied. "He just had a good antiperspirant…and carried a couple spare pairs of shorts according to Rita." Then she dropped the smartass facade she usually sported when dealing with Greg. "Look Greg," she said, "I know you and I aren't the best of friends."

"Actually, that's not true," Greg corrected. "We're good friends, but we only get along because we professionally hate each other."

Despite her best attempt to hold it back, Lisa had to laugh at that. "Okay, that's true. But here's another truth, I need you, you jackass. And despite what you claim, all three of us here know you can do the job." Then her expression became more somber and serious. "And I know why you don't want it," she said, "but I can tell you what they would be saying right now; he would tell you to man up and take it while she would bitch at you for being a wuss."

That response rocked Greg to his core. For a moment, he was pissed at Lisa bringing up the memory of Ted and Rita, but he also had to admit that Lisa was right.

_And right now, wherever he is, Ted is yelling at me for admitting that Lisa's right about something._

Greg looked at Lisa and Lloyd, a sad smile on his face. "I miss them both," he said.

"We all do," Lloyd said, leaning forward slightly at his desk. "And maybe this is just my opinion, but I think you might feel the same. You want to honor their memories, take the job and continue doing the work you've been doing."

Greg thought about it for a moment and then nodded as he came to a decision. "Okay, I'll do it," he said.

"Good," Lloyd said, surprising Greg as he got up out of his chair, moving stiffly as he reached for the cane behind his desk. "Now that's settled, I think it's time you met one of the new people you'll be working with." He limped around his desk and headed for the door. "Come along, we haven't got all day to wait for you to get out of that chair."

"Wait, hold on," Greg said as he scrambled out of his chair to follow the old man and Lisa out the door. "How did you know I would say yes?"

Lloyd chuckled as he led them down the hallway and towards one of the meeting rooms. "Because I know you, Mr. Paladino," he said, "you're not one to walk away from a fight." He opened the door to the room and led them inside. "And here's one of the new people you'll be working with."

Greg suddenly stopped inside the door and did a double take as he saw a young twenty-something Asian man wearing tinted glasses, blue jeans, and a ROOTS sweatshirt drinking a cup of coffee.

_No way, _he thought, _what the hell is he doing here?_

"Greg," Lloyd said, not noticing the surprised look on Greg's face, "I'd like to introduce you to William Hahn, he'll be doing your old job."

"Call me Billy," Hahn said, as he stepped forward, extending his hand to Greg who carefully shook it. "Or you can just call me Hahn, the only person who calls me 'William' is my mother. I've heard a lot about you, Mr. Paladino."

"I'm sure you have," Greg managed to reply. "But I'm hoping my fifteen minutes of fame will expire soon and the public will move on to someone else. If you don't mind me asking, what are your qualifications?"

"Well, I did a lot of camera work while attending university and shot a few documentaries and some independent films. Currently working on a broadcasting degree, though my main field of expertise is sound engineering."

Greg nodded and resisted the urge to wink. "Sound engineering," he said. "You know, I think you're going to fit in here, Mr. Hahn. We could always use someone with sound engineering." He then looked over at Lloyd and Lisa. "Has he been given the official tour of the studio?"

"Just the basic one," Lisa said, "the one we give the tourists that occasionally come through here."

"Okay, then I'll go ahead and show him around," Greg said.

"Just be back here in a couple hours," Lloyd said. "We'll need to prepare for your first show in two weeks."

"No problem," Greg said. "C'mon, _Billy,_ I'll show you around."

Greg led Hahn down the hallway and back to his office. He shut the door and then looked back at Hahn who had sat down on the small sofa that was up against one of the walls and picked up Greg's guitar.

"Told you, we'd be seeing you around," Hahn said as he strummed a couple decent chords on the guitar before Greg snatched it out of his hands. "Okay, that was rude."

"Yeah, it was," Greg said. "Hahn, what the hell are you doing here?"

"Um, getting a job," Hahn replied. "Oh, and before you go ballistic, yes, my credentials are in order. I do know how to operate most of the equipment here and I do have a background in sound engineering…after all, my uncle said I should look into that field when I erupted and my sonic powers manifested."

"But why are you here?"

"Honestly, to keep an eye on you. Sophie said it would be a good idea for you to have some back-up and, well, this is a lot better than being a go-between for her and my uncle. CTV almost became a Utopia puppet and Sophie doesn't want to see that happen."

"So you somehow managed to convince Lloyd to hire you out of all the other available applicants out there."

"Now that is where some dirty trickery was involved," Hahn admitted with a grin. "We had someone hack in and create a job resume for me. On another note, Emily says 'Hi', and she says that she can't wait to introduce you to 'The Naughty Nun from Nantucket'…do I want to know about that?"

For a moment, Greg imagined the world coming to a stop as the imaginary sound of a needle scratching a record as it went off track played through his brain followed an image of the cheerful blonde goth girl dressed up as a nun wearing dominatrix gear. He shook his head to get that image out of his head. "No," he said, "that's another topic for another time. So…let's get on with that tour, shall we?"


	11. Ch-ch-ch-changes II

Disclaimer: Don't own The Incredibles. Don't own Aberrant. Brad Bird and Pixar own the first (and I am very glad that NOBODY at Pixar reads this stuff...or they'd probably come after me with torches and pitch forks). Aberrant is owned by White Wolf (but I don't think they care what I do with with their stuff because they've long abandoned the property and I hope to some day buy it from them if I ever win the Lottery...hey, I can dream, right?)

Author's Notes: Okay...first off...thanks to all those few people who are still sticking around for this crazy ride (this includes that guy from the Russian Federation who doesn't review but seems to be the first to hit the new chapter whenever its loaded...for what it's worth...THANK YOU). As usual reviews are welcome but not necessary.

Next, Artemis (after over a year of teasing) makes her debut...again, I blame the late Dwayne McDuffie for that idea (RIP Dwayne, you are missed and DC really sucks without you).

Oh, and for those of you who were fans of a certain character introduced in the Incredibles comic book series...I want to warn you in advance that you won't like what happens...so you may want to stop reading after the first half of the chapter.

And for the rest of you who like reading my stuff...all I'm going to say is...let the bodycount resume!

* * *

"_At a press conference in Washington, it was announced by the Golden Avenger that Caestus Pax's trial would be held at the nation's capitol. Though he originally intended to have Pax's trial take place in Houston, it was argued by several lawyers representing Pax that a fair trial would not be possible in the city where Pax is to have allegedly killed seven hundred people through negligent use of his nova abilities."_

_-ABC News_

"_Okay, it's no big secret that people like me think Pax is a douche-bag and overall asshole, but why do I smell a rat in the works. I know we just had an election, and it seems a lot of 'born-again' rightwing nutjobs who just got into office are already making the rounds to crucify the bastard…and I don't mind if they do that. But I'm more concerned that this is going to set a very dangerous precedent. Already, you got a bunch of anti-nova politicians in office polishing off some new anti-nova legislation disguised as 'balanced and sensible' registration. What's scary is that it's not that much different than what Project Utopia has presented to the UN in the past requiring that ALL novas register. Thankfully, that proposal gets shot down; but if this case in the US results in a conviction, you can bet that some new 'International Law' might be coming down the pipe later and that the anti-novas haters on the right and the control-freaks on the left will back it up because it means more power for them."_

_-Anonymous Post, H-Cove_

_**Aeon Building**_

_**Manhattan, New York**_

_**1 December 2006**_

_**1800 Hrs.**_

Justin Laragione quietly sat in his chair as he listened to Doctor Peter Kurtzen conclude his presentation. Though he was also studying the data on the pad he was reading, he still paid attention to the German physicist.

"As you can see from the data provided on your pads and on the main viewer here," Kurtzen said as he pointed at the data charts on large video screen on the board room wall, "the quantum signature of the energy from the explosion in Houston was not the same as the energy signature generated by Caestus Pax when he fires quantum energy bolts at a target."

"Well, according to the footage, it looks like he fired off a few quantum bolts that turned a couple city blocks in Houston in to a miniature Hiroshima," said one Utopia representative. Justin wasn't sure who said that, but he had to agree with that assessment.

Before Kurtzen could respond to that remark, Justin raised his hand. "Doctor Kurtzen," he said, "is it possible for Caestus Pax to actually create such an explosion? From the data you have shown me, and from what I know about the man's abilities, I can honestly say that, even in them most extreme situations, we have never seen this level of devastation from Pax."

"That is what I'm saying, Director Laragione. Pax has never been able to generate that kind of power."

"But would he be capable of it, if he pushed himself?"

Kurtzen paused for a moment as he pondered the question. "Theoretically," he finally replied. "However, that would require immense concentration and mental discipline on Pax's part. He would have to absorb, or build up enough energy reserves and that would require him to practically overload himself to dangerous levels." He paused again as he mentally compared the data and did some calculation of his own. "By going on the data from Houston, Pax would have had to go beyond three or four times his maximum limit when it comes to absorbing and storing quantum energy and that could possibly result with serious or even fatal injury to himself."

"Well, at the risk of playing devil's advocate, it could be argued that he was pushing himself when combating that mecha-drone." This was from an Aeon board member who had attended the meeting.

"Perhaps," Kurtzen admitted with a shrug. "But the quantum output from him when we were monitoring the conflict was not even close to his maximum. However, according the footage, the DAV that Pax was fighting appeared to have some sort of energy shielding that allowed it to absorb the blasts which was odd in itself."

"How so, Doctor?" Justin asked.

Kurtzen tapped a couple keys on his own data-pad and the image on the screen showed more data. "What you are seeing here is the quantum energy data that was tracked during the battle. The graph on the right is from Pax, the one on the left is the faint energy reading we got from his opponent. Even when the energy was absorbed from Pax's attacks, it should have still been active on detection. And yet, it seemed to dissipate or, more likely, went somewhere and suddenly…" Kurtzen tapped a couple more keys and another graph showing the massive quantum energy burst from the explosion appeared. "This happened," he continued. "What makes it odd, however, is that we have picked up two instances most recently where that kind of quantum signature had appeared."

Justin suspected where this was going, but did not want to be the one to bring it up. It was bad enough he knew what Thetis and her Proteus thugs had unleashed, but he also knew that revealing that fact alone would cause a rift among the more ethical members of Project Utopia.

_Hell, it's already got me riled up that they let this psychopath loose. If I come forward with that information now, those who have doubts about the good we're doing in the world might jump ship and it might undo the good things we have done. And then you have those bastards like the Chinese and those damn right wingers in the US who would just love to see us torn apart. Well…not on my watch._

Kurtzen tapped a couple more keys and the screen displayed aerial photos of the large crater in Mexico City along with photos of various flooded cities in countries that bordered the Indian Ocean. "A few months ago, our satellites picked up a large burst of quantum energy originating somewhere in the Indian Ocean." Kurtzen's calm and professional tone was unsettling as he flashed through the various images of devastation. "Those countries that had cities on the shoreline bordering the Indian Ocean were flooded and close to a million people were killed. I do not need to point out that we had a research facility out there in the middle of the Indian Ocean." Kurtzen turned to glance in Justin's direction before he continued. "And I can tell you that it was also the source from where that energy discharge originated."

He paused for a moment as half the people in the room began to whisper among themselves and Justin could sense the tension starting to rise.

_This is what I was afraid of,_ Justin thought. _It was no secret to everyone here that we had a special "research lab"/containment facility out in the Indian Ocean. But not all of them suspected that we may have been the inadvertent cause of what happened out there._

Part of him was angry that Kurtzen had revealed the fact, but he also knew that it had to come out sooner or later. Justin knew the various department directors would call for an inquiry but, given current events, he was certain that it would be minor problem to contend with and it wouldn't be difficult to convince the others to see reason.

"The second time this phenomenon occurred," continued Kurtzen, "was the attack on Mexico City by the man calling himself Gabriel." Another image appeared, showing an individual wearing some sort of body-armor. "We have reason to believe this man has access to technology that weaponizes quantum energy."

"Let me get this straight." Justin turned in the direction of the voice and recognized Moses Miller, the Director of Project Utopia's Intelligence Division. "You're telling me that this Gabriel, the same Gabriel who has recently shown up with the Michaelites, has access to this kind of technology?"

Kurtzen nodded grimly at the man. "I'm afraid it's much worse than that," he said. "In fact, I suspect Gabriel built or even possibly engineered this technology."

_Okay, you're hitting a little too close to home, Kurtzen._

Justin hoped the man would stop this part of his presentation, but those hopes were dashed when Kurtzen said, "I also have reason to believe that Gabriel might have even been part of our group or a member of the Aeon Foundation." Another image appeared and Justin felt his blood go cold when he saw the image of Buddy Pine appear. "This is Buddy Pine," Kurtzen continued, seemingly oblivious to the whispers and murmurs coming from most of his colleagues. "As some of you are aware, he was involved in the developing advanced technology for Aeon before the Galatea incident, but ultimately suffered a mental breakdown when he tried to use his technology to settle a personal vendetta with a super back in '98."

_That's one way of putting it, Doctor. Though if you keep this up, Thetis and her crew might have to shut you up and I'm not sure if they'll let you live._ Justin looked over and saw Thetis and Ozaki sitting on the other side of the U-shaped table, a slight frown on her face. _In fact, you may have just signed your death warrant…I just hope I can convince her otherwise._

"Thankfully, Mr. Pine was killed in the conflict, but Aeon still retained much of his research." Kurtzen tapped a final key and the screen cleared as the lights went back on in the conference room. "That is why I have reason to believe that someone within the Aeon Society took the information and went rogue or they have given this information to Gabriel who has been able to utilize it to develop weaponry."

The look on Thetis' face suddenly went from angry to thoughtful. It was clear to Justin that the woman was now pondering something. This was confirmed when she raised her hand slightly. "Doctor," she said, "you are certain of this?"

Kurtzen shook his head. "Certain that Gabriel is formerly one of us, no. But the facts remain that only Aeon had access to this technology and they let it out."

"That's not necessarily true," Hideo Ozaki said. "David Pine Flynn was seen in Mexico City using that kind of technology when helping the relief effort."

"True, but the initial reports also indicate that Flynn's gear for manipulating quantum energy was bulky, unreliable, and prone to break down." The sneer on Kurtzen's face was obvious. "The boy, despite his alleged abilities, hasn't even come close to replicating his father's work."

_That "boy" is probably closing in on that and is still a dangerous enemy, Doctor Kurtzen. You may not think highly of him, but Flynn's abilities are far more than "alleged" and I'm willing to bet that his knowledge on the subject surpasses yours._

Justin waited for the presentation to conclude and remained in his chair as the room cleared out. As he suspected, only he, Thetis, and Ozaki were still in the room while the others met up with Doctor Kurtzen in the reception hall. He waited about a minute after the last person left before he got up and walked over to where Thetis and Ozaki were sitting.

"So, exactly what was the purpose of this meeting?" Thetis asked.

"Isn't it obvious?" Justin fired back, ignoring the condescending tone in Thetis' voice. "With Pax's trial starting at the beginning of the new year, I thought it would be appropriate to bring out people who could testify on Pax's behalf and prove that he was not directly responsible for Houston."

"Not directly responsible," Thetis' eyes narrowed as she repeated those words, "I'm not sure I like the sound of that. You almost make it sound like he did have some sort of hand in this."

"Well, your little fugitive mad scientist made the bomb, but it was Pax who was foolish enough to provide the energy for it." Justin shook his head and didn't bother hiding the disgust in his voice. "What really sucks is that all this could have been avoided, but you just HAD to target David Flynn. Now look what you've caused."

"Don't even think of pinning this on me," Thetis hissed. "The fact that you haven't gone public about it after you learned of it makes you just as culpable. If I go down, so will you." Then a smile formed on her lips. "Although, I must admit that Kurtzen's mentioning of Buddy Pine at the briefing surprised me; if I didn't know any better, I would almost say you gave him that information."

"That was all him," Justin said. "He managed to dig out the information on his own, but now that he knows about it, he wants to start researching Pine's 'Zero Point' project." He shook his head a chuckled bitterly. "The bastard actually thinks he can replicate it."

"I can see the benefit of that, but I'm not sure I would trust someone like Kurtzen with that kind of research," Ozaki said. "His arrogance betrays his true intentions and, quite frankly, I do not want to deal with another Buddy Pine."

"Agreed," Thetis said, "but we can't eliminate him now. He is one of the few experts we have on Quantum energy who might be able to clear Pax."

Justin sighed and shook his head. "Actually, there is one other option, but neither of you are going to like it." The questioning look on Thetis' face told him she didn't quite see where he was headed, but the Ozaki's frown said that he already knew what Justin was going to propose. "There is one expert we could call on; someone who, like us, knows Pax is innocent."

"But who," Thetis started to say before her eyes widened in realization. "No," she snapped, "absolutely not. After what he said to us when we last met him, he would laugh and prefer to watch us burn."

"I'm not so sure," Justin said. "He may hate us and not think too highly of Pax, but he knows a hell of a lot about quantum energy."

Ozaki reluctantly nodded in agreement. "That is true," he admitted, "but Thetis is also correct, David Flynn hates us and wants to see us destroyed."

"Maybe," Justin said, smiling slightly as he saw someone literally appear behind Thetis and Ozaki. "But one of my sources informed me that David Flynn is well aware that his father is still alive and is building a coalition to fight him."

"And, who, exactly, told him that Buddy Pine was still alive?" Thetis asked, though it was obvious from her glare that she was accusing Justin of it.

"That would be me," said the platinum blond haired woman standing behind Thetis, causing the older woman to turn around.

"Mirage," Thetis hissed, "I should have known."

"And you were warned," Mirage countered. "Buddy's release was YOUR decision, Director Thetis. And that decision has killed close to two million people in less than six months."

"You do not want to go there, Melissa," Thetis said holding up a finger in warning. "Because I'm certain the world would love to hear about the sins committed on your watch."

"And I'm surprised that you're still alive," Ozaki added.

"Oh, I am very much alive and," she suddenly brought up a silenced pistol and leveled it at the Asian telepath, "I would advise you that telepathically calling your watchdogs to take me out will result in my putting a bullet between your eyes."

Thetis glared at Justin. "You…you have been working with her all this time?"

"Oh please," Justin chuckled, "spare me the paranoia act. She only approached me this morning before the meeting here and clued me in on what she's been up to since she 'disappeared'. She and Jason Miller are concerned that Proteus' overall actions have jeopardized Project Utopia and future actions might further endanger the project."

"I'm not sure what Miller is up to exactly, but some of his reports are frightening," Mirage said. Though she was looking at Thetis as she spoke, she still kept her gun pointed at Ozaki's head. "What bothers me even more is that what he has uncovered concerning key members of Aeon makes you and Ozaki here look like amateurs."

"If you're referring to Phillipa Lavielle, we are already aware of that situation," Ozaki calmly replied. "And we are taking steps to deal with that problem."

"Really? Because somehow being kicked out of Chicago and being exiled here in New York with Justin doesn't sound like you are dealing with the problem." Mirage shook her head in disgust. "Tell me something, Thetis, does your little telepathic puppet here even know what's really going on at Aeon?"

"I can assure you that, despite our recent exile, I am well informed as to what happens at Aeon," Ozaki said.

"Oh yes, I'm sure your spies tell you exactly what they believe they see." Mirage slowly lowered her pistol and shook her head again. "You're so pathetic and ignorant that you're hardly worth the bullet."

"So you've risked your life to come back here and throw insults at us?" Thetis fired back.

"Okay, that's enough." Justin held up a hand to stall any comments from Thetis or Mirage. "First off, Director Thetis, Mirage informed me what her son was currently up to and, from what I've heard, he may be willing to help us out…for a price."

"Do you really think we can trust David Flynn?" Ozaki asked.

"Truthfully, no," Justin replied. "But it's obvious that David Flynn has enemies other than us. I think it's possible that we could agree to some short of short-term truce while we deal with a common enemy."

"And you do you seriously think he won't be plotting against us?" Thetis shook her head and laughed. "You're a bigger fool than I thought, Justin."

"Oh, I'm sure he'll be plotting against us," Justin said. "Because I know that you will probably looking for a way to take him down or arrange to have our mutual enemy cripple him so you can take him after the immediate threat is dealt with."

"And you accuse me of being paranoid?"

"Wouldn't be the first time you stabbed people in the back, Director Thetis." Justin's expression was grim and determined. "Make no mistake, Director. If we can get David Flynn to agree to even a temporary cessation of hostilities, I will expect you to honor it. If you make a move against him BEFORE the immediate threat is dealt with, I WILL gleefully go out of my way to distance Project Utopia from any of your actions and watch as he rips you apart and guts Aeon to its core. It may be catastrophic, but I'm almost to the point of letting it happen so we can pick up the pieces and rebuild afterward."

"Brave words, little man."

"I mean it, Thetis." There was a malicious gleam in Justin's eyes as he spoke. "I've always been one to look for a peaceful or diplomatic solution first, but I know that some situations cannot be resolved in that way. If you do anything to screw this up, I won't hesitate to bury you and anyone else who stands with you."

* * *

_**Montreal, Quebec**_

_**2 December 2006**_

_**0400 HRS**_

Behemoth, Tagger, and Velocity looked down from the top of the high-rise building they were standing on and watched as the small convoy of vehicles went down the streets of Montreal. Actually, that wasn't entirely accurate. Behemoth and Velocity were watching the Utopia armored convoy while Tagger was stuffing his face full of french fries, gravy, and white cheddar cheese.

"Umph…we gotta' come here more often," Tagger said in between bites. "I love this stuff."

Velocity turned her head and wrinkled her nose in disgust at the contents of the small bowl in Tagger's left hand. "What the hell is that?" she asked.

"Oh, this," Tagger said as he waved the bowl around slightly as if to spread the aroma around. "It's called poutine…it's fries drenched with layers of white cheddar cheese curds and gravy…creating melty goodness…aw man, this shit is AWESOME!" He held the bowl out to her. "Want some?"

Velocity turned her head, her face greening slightly. "I'll…um…take your word for it," she said, fighting the urge to vomit.

Behemoth failed to suppress a smile and shook his head. "There's a garbage can over there," he said, pointing at can next to the rooftop access hatch several feet away. He then reached down and pulled a couple bottles of Canada Dry ginger ale out of small cooler by his feet. He handed one of the bottles to Velocity. "Drink this, it will settle your stomach. Tag, you want one?"

"Nah, I'm good."

Velocity popped the top off her bottle and took a sip. "Tell me again why we're here?"

"Evaluation session," Behemoth replied before taking a sip of his drink. "Director Lavielle wants us on stand-by while Artemis carries out this exercise."

"Exercise…smexor-cise," Tagger snorted. "It's a simple assassination and bloodbath…anyone of us could do it in our sleep."

"True, but Phillipa wants to make sure the new girl is able to carry out the mission parameters," Behemoth said. "Apparently, there have been some issues with her psychological profile and Phillipa wants to make sure they won't interfere with her abilities to carry out a termination assignment."

"Oh, I get it." Tagger nodded his head in understanding. "If she hesitates and is unable to perform, kill her AND take out the target."

"Pretty much."

"Exactly what kind of issues are we talking about?" Velocity asked, genuinely curious. "After all, our psych/personality imprints are usually solid." She paused to briefly glance at Tagger. "Okay…maybe not all."

"Hey, I resent that implication," Tagger snapped. Then he held up a french fry covered with gravy and gooey cheese over his mouth. "Oh poutine, I salute ye oh sacred yummy, hot, and gooey goodness from the great white north."

Velocity sighed and turned back to Behemoth. "I rest my case, your honor."

Behemoth chuckled. "In Tag's case, I'm certain it was intentional."

"Hey! That is so…true..."

Behemoth ignored Tagger's response. "Apparently, the eggheads overseeing Artemis' conditioning were concerned about some levels they detected, but they're not sure if it's a problem or just an anomaly. So we're here to babysit and take in a good show, or kill the failure and clean up."

"Well, from what I've seen, I think we might have to deal with the failure," Velocity said as she spotted the lithe figure standing quietly in the intersection about a quarter mile ahead of the approaching convoy. "She's just standing there."

Down on street level, the young woman who called herself Artemis didn't bother to glance up at the three operatives who were sent to "observe" her. She was told that this was routine with new operatives, but she knew better. She was the latest creation of Project Genesis and she was certain that this had more to do with the "anomaly" detected in her psych profile analysis. Yes, she was aware that she was a cloned nova and that she had been imprinted with knowledge, skills, memories, and a personality template…just like the others. However, unlike the others, she had no real loyalty to Project Genesis or Director Phillipa Lavielle.

Oh, sure, she was currently obeying because she was aware of the protein treatments that were needed to keep her genetic coding from degrading and Project Genesis was the only source of that treatment. Eventually, she would find away to resolve that problem by either finding an alternate source of that protein or a way to synthesize it herself. Until then, she was perfectly content to wait and undertake whatever mission was sent her way.

_But it's only a matter of time before this puppet cuts her strings, Director Lavielle, and I intend to use those strings to strangle any of you foolish enough to stand in my way._

A smile formed on her lips and she was thankful for the helmet she wore. It wouldn't do if her "comrades" watching the show from above saw her smirk as she imagined decapitating the big guy and disemboweling the obnoxious bitch with the gravity powers. As for the smart-ass…

_Well…maybe I'll be nice and give him a pleasurable death…_

Then her smile faded as she focused on the approaching convoy and her mission parameters. It felt odd, being in a flesh and bone body, not familiar…but just odd. The last time she was in a city environment, she was in a metal body, had access to weaponry, and was virtually indestructible until someone got the idea of cutting out her core with one of her own limbs.

_No, _she corrected herself, _those are merely memories from the Omnidroid AI…useful, but annoying. On the other hand, having access to knowledge of how to neutralize or deal with a majority of the world's supers does come in handy. If Lavielle didn't imprint me to be a killer, I would have issues with all the deaths in those memories. As it is…it's more like idle entertainment._

The city streets were covered with a light layer of snow and Artemis allowed herself to enjoy a moment as she watched the tiny flakes flutter to the ground around her.

_So this is snow,_ she thought, _it's beautiful…almost a shame that it's going to get all bloody, but…alas…_

She twitched her fingers slightly and a glowing disc of purple crackling energy about the size of a frisbee appeared in each hand with her fingers gripping them at the center. Then she glanced back up at the three people watching her and smiled.

_Hope you enjoy the show_, she thought_, and you might want to take notes…because this is a preview of what's coming to you._

Then she charged the oncoming line of vehicles, the HUD system in her helmet targeting the two heat signatures in the lead car before she flung both discs that accelerated towards their targets. One second later, the discs sliced through the windshield of the vehicle, ripping off the top of the car as well as decapitating the occupants. The roof of the car flew back and slammed into the transport behind it while the car careened out of control, hopped the sidewalk, and crashed into closed storefront. The transport came to a complete stop while the SUV behind it drove alongside. A Utopia agent popped open the sunroof to the SUV and pointed an automatic rifle at her, firing a full burst.

Artemis chuckled as she willed a force-field disc in front of her that stopped the bullets dead in their tracks. For a moment, she pondered throwing the bullets back, but decided that she didn't have time to fool around with that idea. Instead, she formed a large energy disc underneath the SUV, lifted it off the ground about thirty feet before flipping over and dumping the vehicle on top of the transport, crushing a couple Utopia agents that had opened a couple hatches and were about to fire at her.

There was the loud screech and grinding noise of metal followed by an even louder explosion that ripped the SUV apart and sent debris flying into nearby buildings. Artemis calmly walked around the burning front of the transport, humming softly as she willed another pair of energy discs into her hands and used them to slice open the back of the transport. One of the guards inside the transport was conscious and tried to train his weapon on her, but she ended that threat by swing one of the energy discs down and cut him in half diagonally from shoulder to down to his waist line.

Then she focused on her target who was huddled in a corner, still manacled to the floor.

"W-who are you," the red-haired woman with the burned out eyes rasped.

"Someone who was sent to tie up loose ends," Artemis replied.

Olivia Montague, formerly known as the mind-controlling mercenary called Mesmerella, paled in horror. "I…I told them nothing," she said.

"That's good to know," Artemis chuckled, "and you'll continue to tell them nothing."

"No! Plea-" was all Montague managed to scream before her head was cut clean off at the shoulders, the look of horror now permanently etched on her face as Artemis reached down and picked up the woman's head by her long red hair.

Artemis tilted her neck to one side as she held the severed head in front of her to examine her handiwork. "Alas, Mezemerella, I hardly knew ye," she quipped. "Then again, we have your DNA and brain now…so maybe the new version of you won't be so pathetic."

Approaching sirens in the distance caught Artemis' attention and she sighed. "Well, as much as I'd love to bask in the glow of my work," she said to the now silent interior, "it is time to leave."

She glanced down and saw a grenade on the dead guard's belt. She reached down with her free hand, popped open the visor to her helmet and pulled the safety pin out with her teeth, spitting the pin on the upper half of the dead guard. She then exited the vehicle and casually tossed the grenade over her shoulder as her body (along with the severed head she was carrying) began to vanish. A couple seconds later, the transport exploded, but Artemis didn't bother looking back. Instead, she smiled as two police cars drove by her position.

After all, it wasn't like they could see someone who was now invisible.

Back atop the high-rise building, the trio stood there speechless. Well, two of them were speechless; the third member of their group was still stuffing his face with ANOTHER order of poutine.

"Okay," Tagger said in between bites while looking at the carnage down below, "I don't see any problem."

Velocity nodded in agreement. "Reluctantly, I have to admit that I am impressed." She then looked over at Behemoth. "What about you, Robbie?"

Behemoth shook his head. "I don't know," he said. "Yeah, she got the job done, but…she just seemed too eager to please and it was a little overkill."

"Oh, c'mon," Tagger scoffed. "Overkill, really? Okay, it was a little brutal, but it's not like we haven't indulged in a little overkill ourselves. I mean, look at Metroville…and that turned into a disaster."

"Maybe so," Behemoth admitted, "but something about her isn't right."

"Now, what a rotten thing to say."

All three of them turned to see Artemis standing there, her helmet removed and her long black hair tied back in a pony tail and flowing behind her. She was still gripping Mesmerella's severed head by the hair and swung it around lightly as if she were carrying a shopping bag as she walked towards them.

"I mean," she continued, talking casually as if she were chatting about the weather, "I tie up a loose end, have a little fun, and you act like I've committed a cardinal sin." Then she looked at Tagger. "Is that poutine?"

"Um, yeah," Tagger said, caught off guard by Artemis' sudden change in topic. "You want some?"

"Oh hell yes," Artemis said, tossing the severed head at Behemoth who awkwardly caught it. "Doing a job like that makes me hungry." She took the bowl of fries from Tagger and ate a couple. "Damn…this is good stuff." Then she looked back at Behemoth. "So, let's call up Zone and have him 'port us home, shall we? I need to unwind."

She then walked off with Tagger's bowl of fries, leaving a now completely speechless trio staring after her.

"Okay," Tagger managed to say a few seconds later, "it's official…I am in love."


	12. Ch-ch-ch-changes III

Disclaimer: Incredibles created and owned by Brad Bird. Aberrant owned by White Wolf Games.

Author's Notes: Okay people...some crazy twists are involved here.

* * *

"Okay, so some unknown nova attacks a Utopia convoy transporting a nova terrorist to a Utopia security facility in Montreal and everyone is so quick to point fingers at the Teragen. Really? Do they seriously think people are going to buy that BS after everything that's happened in the last couple months. To be honest, I think Mesmerella was working for Utopia and someone silenced her to keep her quiet."

-Henry "Duke" Rollo, "The Duke Rollo Show"

* * *

**_8 December 2006_**

**_Syndrome Software and Technologies_**

**_Metroville, California_**

**_1000 HRS_**

David sat down at his usual table at the Neon Café located off to the side of the atrium of the SST entrance and, for the first time in a few weeks, he was actually in a good mood. Utopia had pretty much been leaving him alone, most of the politicians were leaving him alone (though he was certain that would change when the newly elected ones officially took office in January), Seth Montaine (the idiot N!Channel hired to replace the deceased Brandi Miller) got his ass fired, Shiro and Bridgette were setting up their operations in Detroit, and, most importantly, sales of the Omega Console System were going through the roof.

In fact, after the initial release on Black Friday (the day after Thanksgiving), the available units had practically sold out in the US and the Asian market. David held off on releasing it in Europe, however. He would eventually allow it; but since he considered most of Europe to be in Utopia's back pocket, he was willing to ignore them for now (but he did make an exception for Germany). While his partners with Nintendo were arranging for more manufacture orders, David wasn't one to put all the proverbial eggs in once basket…which was why he made an arrangement with Bridgette who, with her company's nano-manufacturing technology, would be able to match (or even surpass) current production rates. From what Bridgette told him the day before, they would begin production within the next three days.

In a way, he was glad that Shiro opted to leave and work with Bridgette. Though he was not directly working for SST anymore, Shiro was able to still work on the OCS project and he seemed happy where he was at.

"_And the sex is good…"_

David shuddered at that thought as he remembered that line from Bridgette and he couldn't suppress the mental image he had of Shiro getting hot and heavy with what looked like a female liquid metal Terminator from the movie series.

_Then again, who am I to argue with what makes them happy…he could be good for her and vice-versa._

His thoughts were interrupted by Ashley putting a plate in front of him, the smell of fresh baked pastries bringing him back to the present. He then looked up at Ashley as he pointed at the plate. "Are those what I think they are?" he asked.

Ashley grinned at him and nodded. "Blueberry coffee cake muffins," she said as she set a large coffee cup next to the plate, "fresh out of the oven and with a salted-caramel mocha to wash it down."

David grabbed one of the muffins and took a small bite, rolling his eyes as he savored the fresh baked goodness. "Oh hell yeah, Ash, thank you very much," he said before taking a sip of his mocha. "I really needed this."

The auburn-haired woman slid into the seat across from him. "Yes, you did," she said. "After all, it's been one hell of a month for you."

"True, but we all made it through," David said. He took another bit of his muffin. "Although, I gotta' tell ya, Ash…I sometimes find myself fighting the urge to just walk away."

"I find that hard to believe," Ashley said. "After all, within the last seven months, you've created your own company and taken the world by storm, although I figure you've had something like this planned for awhile. I'm guessing you had stuff planned out at least a year in advance before you made your public debut."

David took another sip of his coffee and looked at Ashley for a moment as if he were seeing her for the first time.

"What?" Ashley asked.

David smiled and shook his head. "You know, people say you're not the brightest bulb in the box," he said. "Hell, even you have said that…and when it comes to technology and the real brainy stuff, I'll agree. But when it comes to the human element, Ash, knowing people, figuring them out, you're a damn genius."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Ashley smirked, and then her expression softened. "But I wouldn't call myself a genius. Back before I erupted, I was your stereotypical air-head cheerleader type. My biggest accomplishment was getting a job at some high-fashion store in the mall and selling 'cool clothes' to 'cool people', but I learned that I had a skill of figuring out what people needed…not what they wanted, but what they needed. I also knew what to say or how to act to get them to buy the product if they weren't sure about it."

"But then you erupted."

"I erupted…and looked even hotter than before. The strength, speed, and toughness were just an added boost." Then Ashley's gaze dropped to the table for a moment. "And I blew it."

"If you don't mind me asking, how the hell did you end up in the XWF?"

"An opportunistic boyfriend and poor decision making when it came to legal matters," Ashley replied. Then she smiled again. "And then you showed up," she said. "To be honest, I'm sure you had an agenda when you approached me, and I'm certain you still do."

"Hey, the XWF approached me first and I did a little research on the company before I showed up at that event," David said, a dark look briefly crossing his face. "I didn't like what I saw. And by the way, you weren't the only one that was getting screwed over there. I was there to help out Heyman, but your financial arrangement struck me as unfair. When you were released from your contract, I didn't think you would take me up on my offer. I figured you would probably go to Europe or something, do some travelling, try to find yourself."

"Not much travelling was required," Ashley said. "I realized in the XWF that I was happier at my other job, reading people, helping them get what they need…though I did have to convince them sometimes that they had to buy it."

"Well, you were in sales at the time, so that's to be expected."

"True and I still am. But can you tell me that you really didn't need that blueberry muffin and that mocha?"

"Well…no…but I hadn't decided I was going to order that when I walked in."

"And yet, you didn't object when I brought them out to you, unless you plan on ordering something else."

"Actually, no, this is perfect."

"But we're getting off track here, David," Ashley said.

"How so?"

"Originally, we were talking about you and you fighting the urge to 'just walk away', and yet you somehow shifted the conversation to make it all about me."

"Again, I stand by my argument about you, Ashley…you don't seem to miss a beat." He sighed and nodded his head slightly. "Yeah, I'll admit it. After everything that's happened over the last year or so, I sometimes ask my self, 'Self, why the hell are you doing this?' and then I answer by saying, 'Because it's the right thing to do and no one else will, dammit!' But yeah, while I want to walk away sometimes, I can't do it because I can't bail on the people I care about."

For a moment, Ashley said nothing but stared at him. After a couple seconds of awkward silence, she finally spoke, a surprised expression on her face. "You really mean that, don't you? You really do care."

"Of course I do," David said. "With the exception of my foster family, you and everyone here are the only real friends I have. Oh sure, I have associates and people I know online since I'm almost constantly jacked in to the 'net, but they aren't real people I know and care about. It's just…"

"Draining?" Ashley offered.

"Yeah, exactly," David replied. "That's exactly how I feel sometimes…and I wish I could just unplug and walk away from it all for a little bit."

"You know, it's not wrong to want some downtime for yourself and get away from it all for a bit," Ashley said. "You've got that inhibitor that can shut your powers down for a little bit, but it's only half the problem." Then she smiled at him again. "But I do know a place you could go if you wanted to get away for just a little bit."

"Oh? You know of a tropical island somewhere that's isolated and not jacked into the net in any way shape or form?"

Ashley shook her head and laughed. "Not exactly," she said, "and it's not tropical…but it's a place I passed through one day when I was back in the XWF. I kind of stumbled across it on accident when I went out for a run to get away from the hellhole my job had become. Tell me, have you ever been to Pennsylvania?"

"I went to Philly once."

Ashley rolled her eyes. "I'm not talking about Philadelphia," she half grumbled. "Damn, you'd almost think that people seem to think that's all there is to Pennsylvania. I'm talking about rural Pennsylvania."

"What…you want me to go hang out with the Amish?" David chuckled; then he stopped when he saw the look on Ashley's face. "Wait, you're serious?"

"Like a heart attack," Ashley said. "Look, I know it may sound extreme, but I know some people over there who helped me out and they might even be willing to let you hang out with them for a week or two, but you'd have to do some actual physical work." Her face broke into another grin. "Although, I don't think they planned on me knocking trees down and carrying them to the saw mill."

"Hope they don't expect me to do that," David said, "though I suppose I could do some carpentry work."

"That'll work."

David nodded and took sip of his mocha. "Well, if it's not too much trouble, can you e-mail or call them and…" He suddenly stopped when he realized what he was saying. "Shit, I really need to get out of here some day."

Ashley laughed again as she got up from the table and patted him on the shoulder. "I'll write a letter," she said. "They do have postal service." She then walked away, leaving David alone by himself with his thoughts.

_Hmm…she does have a point. There are some "dead zones" on the grid that have almost no form of electronic communication in that area._

He looked up when he saw Violet approaching him. Though she met with him almost every morning, David noted that Violet acted a little differently over the last couple weeks. Before she got shot, Violet was a serious and level-headed individual, but she always came off as being a little uptight on some things. After she got shot, she was still like that, but also seemed to give off a "don't piss me off, I'm not in a good mood" vibe, which was understandable. But lately, she had become a little more cheerful. Even her wardrobe changed slightly. Today, she was wearing jeans and a black t-shirt with a giant white question mark on it. If he didn't know any better, he'd almost swear that Violet had been getting dressing tips from Zoe.

"And good morning," Violet said cheerfully as she sat down across from David. "Are those blueberry muffins?"

"Um…yeah," David said, "help yourself."

Violet did just that and took a bite, humming to herself as she opened up the newspaper she had brought with her.

"Um, Vi?"

"Hmm?"

"Why are you humming?"

"Um, because it's a beautiful morning and I happen to be in a good mood."

"You know, you've almost been in a perpetual good mood for the last two weeks."

"Is there something wrong with that?" Violet asked, giving David a light glare.

"No…no," David stammered, "it's just…well…you actually seem…um…happy?" Then he hastily added, "But there's nothing wrong with happy."

Violet smirked at him. "Well, if it makes you feel better, I could be all doom and gloom and channel my goth teen years."

"Um, no, that will not be necessary." David then gave her a knowing grin. "This new found happiness wouldn't happen to be linked to you meeting up with someone a couple nights a week, would it?"

Violet set the paper down. "Okay, first off, there is no crime against having a personal life, is there?"

"No, but I am curious."

"Well, curiosity can dig you an early grave." Violet glared at him for a couple seconds before laughing. "Yeah, okay, I have met up with someone…he's kind of a family friend."

"Anyone I know?"

"Professionally, no, and why the interest in my personal life?"

"Because I'm bored and don't have one," David said. "So I feel the need to live vicariously through my employees."

"Well, don't you think playing marathon Command & Conquer sessions during your off hours might be the problem behind your lack of social life?"

"Well, maybe, but I really want to beat Zoe's record."

"Ah, so it's about her…just curious, how exactly does that relationship work with you two?"

"What do you mean?"

"It's obvious you two are a couple, but you really haven't done anything serious." She then leaned forward and lowered her voice. "She's not your 'beard', is she?" she asked, a mischievous grin on her face.

"What!? No!"

"Are you hers?"

"No." David shook his head. "Trust me, it's nothing like that. And believe me, there are things that I would love to do to her, but I can't until she's legal."

"Really? And when did you become so old-fashion in the morals department?"

"When her uncle, who is an honest to goodness practitioner of the occult has threatened to use my soul for toilet paper and can actually back that threat up, tells me that I'm not to do anything to her UNTIL she's eighteen."

"So that's why Zoe likes to tease you about her eighteenth birthday," Violet giggled, "because she knows you're actually counting off the days."

"I am not," David half-whined, "it's just with this hyper-intelligent brain of mine; it automatically does calculations when something is thrown at it and Zoe knows this." Then he saw Violet's grin getting even bigger. "What?"

"I'm sorry," Violet said, shaking her head. "It's just I'm trying to figure if that's cute or pathetic…or maybe a bit of both."

"Not funny, Vi," David grumbled before taking a sip of his mocha.

"Speaking of which, where is the pink haired terror?" Violet asked, looking around.

"Visiting her parents this weekend," David replied. "She may be an 'emancipated' minor, but she's still trying to patch things up with her parents. It's kind of complicated…although I have to admit I was shocked that your mother and Mrs. Kilmarten almost had a knockdown drag-out brawl when they were here last month."

"Oh yeah, about that," Violet said, her expression becoming more serious, "you might not want to have the Kilmartens and my family together in the same room for the near future. Mom was on the warpath that day. I think only her hatred of you surpasses the hatred she has for Zoe's family."

"Wow…gee…thanks for that cheery bit of news there, Violet."

"Don't mention it." She suddenly reached over and put her hand over his head. "And you might want to do something about your hair; it's starting to go '80s on you. In fact, I'd say it's now standing a quarter inch taller than it was before."

"Dammit, Vi," David snapped pushing her arm away as she laughed at him.

"And I raaaaaaan," Violet sang playfully, "I ran so far awaaaaaaaaaay…."

"There is a reason I banned that song from ever being played on the building's sound system."

"True, but you can't ban us from singing it personally."

David lightly banged his forehead against the table while Violet kept laughing/singing.

"Hey, David," both David and Violet looked up to see Null standing there, "we got a problem."

"Yeah," David said, "Violet's beating me up emotionally and I can't do anything about it."

"This is serious, David," Null said in tone that David immediate recognized that this was an urgent matter. Violet realized it was well and her smile faded.

"How bad, Null?" David asked as he got up out of his chair.

"I'm not sure," Null said. "You have a couple visitors. They just popped up just outside our property boundaries and then walked up to the gate."

"Popped up?" David repeated as he followed Null out of the SST lobby with Violet trailing only a couple feet behind him. "As in teleported?"

"Yeah," Null said. "Slider brought him in personally."

"Whoa…wait," David couldn't believe what he just heard, "did you just say Slider? As in Jennifer Landers aka Slider from Team Tomorrow, that Slider?"

"Yeah," Null said as they made their way outside and headed toward the gate, "that would be the one. She brought someone who wants to talk to you and they say it's urgent."

"Okay, but who is it and why…" David's voice died in his throat when he saw the man in a three piece business suit standing outside the gate with Team Tomorrow's Slider. It was an odd feeling for David, being filled with a deep hatred and yet curious as to why that individual even dared to show up on his front porch.

"You have got to be kidding me," he finally said.

* * *

David sat there at one end of the small table, silently studying the man at the other end. Many emotions were tearing through him, mostly hate, contempt, disgust…pretty much any negative emotion that had him momentarily pondering if he could kill the man and come up with a convenient self-defense story.

_Nah…somehow I don't think people would buy that story given the fact that my contempt for Project Utopia publicly well known._

For his part, Project Utopia Director Justin Laragione, despite being a skilled diplomat, seemed a little out of his element. However, he still managed to keep his composure when David agreed to meet with him on the condition that Slider would not be allowed in the SST building. David also insisted that they would meet in one of the smaller conference rooms…just the two of them, no one else present.

For a few minutes, neither of them said anything, each studying the other and sizing each other up.

_Okay, _David thought, _let's see what brings this bastard to town._

"Well," he finally said to Laragione, "we're here and I'm going to assume we're finished with the whole 'stare-down' thing…so let's hear it."

"Hear what?" Laragione asked.

_So you want to play games, Director Laragione? Sorry, not today._

"I'm sorry, Director Laragione," David said as he made to get up. "But I'm a really busy man and I would like to resume getting on with my business which, by the way, eventually will involve me destroying your organization and showing the rest of the world what kind of assholes you really are. I'll show you out."

"Is that anyway to talk to an ally?"

"Ally?" David asked, arching an eyebrow as he dropped back into his chair. "Given the fact that your people tried to kill me a couple times recently, I would hardly call that 'being an ally'."

"I had nothing to do with the attempts on your life, Mr. Flynn," Largione snapped. "That was Thetis and her crew, not me."

"Maybe, but you certainly haven't done much to stop her."

"What the hell do you want me to do, Flynn? I may be a diplomat, but she's a fucking politician who has more influence with Aeon than I do. Do you really think I haven't tried to stop her?"

"The fact that you didn't do anything to prevent her from releasing my fa-Buddy Pine from his little prison speaks volumes."

"I had nothing to do with that and I didn't learn about it until after the fact."

"And yet you remained silent about it after you found out," David said, his voice full of venom. "Hell, we all thought he was dead, but he was working for Utopia all this damn time. And guess what…you're still silent about it."

"If we come forward now, it could-"

"It could what, Director Laragione? Reveal to the world what you're really about and prevent you from playing God anymore?"

"And what do you think would happen?" Justin fired back. "Yeah, you'd see us destroyed, but it would destroy all the good we've done. Do you really think the rest of the world powers would be as benevolent as we are? Even your own government here in the US…do you think their thoughts and intentions are pure? We've prevented wars, we've brought peace to various regions, and we've even repaired the damage mankind has done to the planet."

David laughed and shook his head. "Really," he snickered, "let's break things down here, shall we? You've prevented some wars, but Africa is still the hotbed of activity and virtual haven for every terrorist, warlord, and every other scum out there. You've brought peace to some regions…yeah, sure, but I don't see them settling the shit in the African continent since, oh yeah, several mercenary elites beat your precious Team Tomorrow team and killed or maimed a couple of your members."

Laragione suddenly shot up out of his chair and slammed both hands on the table. "Don't even go there!" he snarled. "My best friend was murdered that day."

"And yet you let his murderer go free," David said, his icy tone matching Laragione's fury. "If someone went after one of my friends, I would do whatever it took to avenge them." Then he snapped his fingers as he seemed to remember something. "Oh wait…I did."

"Oh, you want to play that game, Flynn?" Laragione slowly sat back down in his chair, glaring at David, a malicious gleam in his eyes as he spoke. "Your little stunt revealing Aeon agents that had infiltrated various agencies, most of them are dead because of you. Their blood is on your hands."

"Nice try," David countered, "but seeing as how they work for you, I see them as enemies and I really don't care if they die. I'd definitely say the world is better with twenty or thirty less people like you running around and causing trouble."

"Some of those agents had families, Flynn, loved ones who weren't even involved or even know what they were doing." Laragione reached into his coat pocket, pulled out a sheet of paper and slapped it onto the table in front of David. "There are about a hundred names on that list, Flynn. Mothers, fathers, wives, husbands, sons, daughters, nieces, nephews, grandparents…people related to those agents who were systematically hunted down and killed because someone suspected they knew something. You like to walk around and talk about how you're fighting the good fight, but you don't seem to care about the collateral damage you do in the process."

David managed to keep his expression calm and resisted the urge to pick up the piece of paper. Instead, he just let his eyes glance down at it for a moment before looking back at Laragione. "Are you going to get to your point at some time during your tirade?"

"My point is that no matter how you may act to the public, no matter what you believe, you're no better than we are. In fact, you're worse than us." Laragione then gestured at the paper on the table. "You just don't bother to think about the collateral damage your actions cause."

David was tempted to fire back at Laragione's latest barb, but held back.

_Despite what you may think, Laragione, I do think about the 'collateral damage; but I also can't help wondering why your organization didn't move to help those people once their loved ones had been compromised. However, that doesn't matter at the moment...and while we could do this all day, I don't have the time or the patience._

He took a slow breath, looked back down at the paper for a moment to give Laragione the impression he was actually thinking about the names on that list, and then looked back up at the man. "What do you want, Mr. Laragione?" he asked. "And be blunt about it, because I really don't want to waste my time with you."

Largione gave a slight nod and David briefly saw the trace of a smug grin on the man's face that vanished before he spoke. "Very well," Laragione said. "As you know, Caestus Pax is going to be on trial next months concerning all the deaths he caused in Houston. We have reason to believe he was set up."

David leaned back in his chair. "As I recall, there was video footage of him doing that."

"Get real, Flynn," Largione snapped. "Our experts on quantum energy know that there was no way Pax could do something like that. Yes, he's powerful, but not powerful enough to create such a blast and yet possess enough control to keep it concentrated in such a small area."

"Well, you know us novas; we can be capable of just about anything…if you push us to extremes. Maybe Pax was stressed out, pushed past his limits, and snapped. But still, that doesn't explain why you came all the way here to talk to me about Pax."

"It's simple; we want you to testify on Pax's behalf."

This time, David was shocked into silence and it took him a couple a seconds to recover. "Excuse me," he managed to say, "I'm not sure I heard that correctly."

"We want your help in clearing Pax," Laragione said. "We may have some experts on quantum energy, but the energy output is way past what they are used to dealing with. This is more on par with Buddy Pine's Zero Point project, something that even our people are reluctant to deal with."

"Really, and why is that?" David asked.

"Because earlier attempts to re-create your father's experiments resulted in too many deaths," Largione replied. "Listen, Buddy Pine was a genius, at least decades ahead of what are people were toying with. But he was a psychotic nutjob with issues."

"No argument here," David said, "but that didn't stop you from holding and forcing him to work for you after you caught him. It must really frighten you that he's now loose and running around out there. After all, if I had been imprisoned and forced to work for you, I would be looking to get some payback."

"We have reason to believe that the man called Gabriel, a new faction leader within the Church of Michael, was the man behind the Michaelite attack on the facility in Houston. We also believe he has access to Buddy Pine's ZP based technology."

David leaned forward in his chair. "Why don't we just cut through the crap and you just say it; my father IS Gabriel, isn't he?"

"We really don't have any physical proof of that," Laragione admitted. "But even if we did, as you pointed out, we can't exactly go public with that knowledge."

"Can't or won't?"

"Get real, Flynn…you know I'm right that the world would tear itself apart without us."

"So you keep saying." David sighed and drummed his fingers. "So you want me to prove that Pax might not be responsible for what happened in Houston. Now tell me again why I should even bother?"

"I could try to appeal to your moral character and say it's the right thing to do, but you would laugh in my face and tell me to go to hell."

David had to laugh at that. "You're right about that," he chuckled. "So…what are you offering me in exchange for my assistance?"

This time, Laragione took a slow breath before he spoke. "If you cooperate and help us, I will use my position as Director to order Project Utopia personnel and operations to stay away from you. We will give SST a wide berth and allow you to carry out your own agenda so long as it doesn't endanger the public."

"Sounds like a good deal," David said after thinking about it for a moment, "but not quite good enough. You spoke only for Project Utopia, but that pretty much doesn't include Aeon and Thetis' little glee club of the damned in Proteus. Sorry…no deal."

"Dammit, Flynn, that's the best I can do. I have no control over Aeon and you know Thetis won't stop coming after you. If it were up to me, I would be more than happy to say 'the hell with you' and just leave you alone. But you are an enemy to them and Thetis is taking your actions against Aeon personally."

David cocked his head to one side. "Wow, the famed Justin Laragione, the Diplomat's diplomat, can't broker a deal?" He shook his head and chuckled bitterly. "Say it isn't so."

Largione's expression suddenly hardened and his eyes narrowed slightly. "Then how about this? Your war is with primarily with Aeon and Proteus; leave me and my people out of it, and you have my word I will not stand against you when the time comes."

For the second time, David was caught off guard by the man. "Okay, let me get this straight," he said. "You're willing to leave me alone if I help you with Pax, and you will actually stand aside and let me go after your friends at Aeon?"

"I believe in the good of Project Utopia, Mr. Flynn," Laragione said. "However, there are a good number of people in the parent organization who are power-hungry. If letting you loose on them will separate them from the project, I'm willing to make that deal to you."

David was silent for a moment, quietly pondering the deal. "The trial's not until next month, right?" he asked.

"Yes."

"I'll tell you what, Mr. Laragione." David slowly got up out of his chair. "Give me a couple days and I'll think about it."

"You can't make a decision now?" Laragione asked as he also stood up.

"Forty-eight hours, Director," David said. "However, I will give you something for free."

Laragione suddenly looked wary. "And what exactly might that be?" he asked, wondering what David was up to.

"Psyche aka Allison Pfaltzgraft."

"What about her?"

"She's a mole for Thetis."

Laragione chuckled at that. "That's hardly a secret, Flynn," he said. "I've known that for the last two years. She just doesn't know that I know."

"Okay, then maybe you should confront her about it and ask her if it was her idea or Thetis' when it came to covering up Pax's role when your friend was murdered by Totentanz in Africa a few years ago." David then walked over and opened the door to the conference room and held it open for Laragione. "After all," he added as Laragione walked by him, "she's here in this room with us."

"What-" Before Laragione could finish his startled question, David shoved him aside and threw a tiny disc he had pulled out of his jacket. The disc hit something in mid-air and blue electrical arcs of energy seemed to wrap around something that was apparently invisible.

That something was quickly revealed to be a woman that Laragione recognized as Psyche from Team Tomorrow. The telepathic blond screamed in agony as the inhibitor shut her powers down and then shocked her with some serious voltage that knocked her out cold a couple seconds later.

It took the Utopia Director a few seconds to recover from what just happened. "I-I didn't know about this," he managed to say.

"Relax," David said. "I believe you; neither you nor Slider was aware that she tagged along for the ride."

"But how did you know?"

David smiled at him. "Because someone tried a similar trick a few weeks ago and that didn't work. I also cheated, but neither Psyche nor you knew that." He then looked back in the room. "Vi, Crystal, show's over, you can come out now."

There was a ripple in the corner as Violet dropped her invisibility field revealing herself and Crystal standing there. Crystal walked over to where Psyche was lying on the ground and knelt down to check on her.

"David, she's starting to come around," Crystal said.

"Take care of that, will you? I'm not good at dealing with telepathic intruders."

Crystal shrugged and used a special move she learned that was guaranteed to take down most telepaths: she sucker punched the bitch, breaking Psyche's nose and knocking her out again. Violet, Laragione, and David all let out a collective wince.

"Ouch," Violet said. "Y'know…is it just me or all telepaths either blonds or redheads?"

Crystal looked up at her. "Actually," she said after thinking about it for a moment, "I think you got a point there. Most of the telepaths I know are blond or redheads…that's weird."

Laragione was momentarily distracted by the conversation between the two women, but focused his attention back on David who had walked over and picked up the burned out device he had thrown at Psyche. "I'll have to make some calls," he said.

David shook his head. "No," he said, "we'll deal with her."

"But she's my responsibility…they'll suspect something if you'll kill her."

"Director Laragione, you have my word…she will return back to Project Utopia unharmed and in decent condition…physically anyway."

"What are you going to do?"

This time, David grinned at him. "Plausible deniability, Mr. Laragione," he said as Violet used one her force-field bubbles to pick up an unconscious Psyche. "You didn't know she was here and, therefore, were unable to act when we found out about her."

* * *

Allison Pfaltzgraft aka Psyche, member of Team Tomorrow and an agent for Project Proteus, groaned as she regained consciousness.

_Oh god…what the hell hit me._

It had been a long time since she woke up with a hangover. She hadn't had one of those since she erupted.

_Wait…this isn't a hangover._

As she fully came to, she realized she was sitting in some sort of chair and she was manacled to it in the middle of a dimly lit room. Then the memories came flooding back, she had tried to sneak in to SST with Director Laragione and even managed to observe the meeting…then David Flynn suddenly threw something at her even though he couldn't see her and then…oblivion.

"Good, you're awake."

Allison was able to turn her head in the direction of the voice and saw David Flynn standing there holding some sort of device in his hand. She tried to talk, but the best she could do was grunt.

"Don't try to talk," Flynn said, "the paralysis is side effect from the device, but it won't be permanent. However, I figured this would be a good time to talk to you about the last time we met."

Allison's eyes widened in horror and she felt her blood go cold as she recalled what happened the last time she had met David Flynn. It was at a secret Aeon facility in Redfield, Oklahoma.

"Ah, memories," the young man said wistfully. "They're like toys to you, aren't they? I mean, you can literally just waltz in, go through them, learn what your target is thinking or what they know, and then, if you want to, edit them, delete them, or create new ones." He smiled at her, but there was no warmth. "It's like being a movie director going through the footage, splicing, editing, or putting in new footage that wasn't there originally…kind of cool, actually."

Then he knelt down so he could look her in the eyes. "Remember last year when you tried to do that to me?" he asked. "Remember how you were telepathically tearing into my brain while you had the others subject me to good old electro-shock torture sessions?"

_It was nothing personal, _Allison mentally yelled at him, _I was just following orders!_

Flynn smirked at her. "Oh, trying to use your telepathic powers, are we? Sorry, but they're currently offline." Then he leaned in closer. "So tell me, bitch, how does it feel…being helpless, not knowing what's going to happen to you? Is it giving you a rush?"

_Just get on with it, you sick bastard…_

He stood back up and looked down at the strange device in his hand that looked like a cross between a high-tech calculator crossed with a cheesy ray-gun prop from an 1950s sci-fi movie. "Know what this is?" he asked as he held it up in front of her. "No? Let me tell you. This, Ms. Pfaltzgraft, is a piece of classic equipment. It's an XP-30MC memory alteration device that the NSA used waaaaaay back in the sixties and seventies. Granted, the newer ones they use are easier to use, but not nearly as powerful. In fact, these were pretty much outlawed and discontinued, though I know someone in the NSA who is still old school enough to use these."

Allison's horror returned as she recognized the device…or more accurately…its effects.

_No!_

"Yeah," Flynn said. "This is the kind of device that was used on Kari McKeen all those times. This baby can not only erase and edit memories, as you well know, but it can go much farther than that. It can literally RE-WRITE a person…which is pretty much why Dicker ordered most of these things scrapped. Can you imagine what it would be like if some unscrupulous people had gotten their hands on that kind of ability?" Then he paused and gave her malicious grin. "Oh yeah…that's right, you already know because you've done it a few times with your powers. Hell, you even tried to do it to me."

Painful memories flashed through Allison's mind as she remembered that day. She managed to push into the kid's mind, only to find herself in what looked like a computer generated hell. The sudden flow of all that information hitting her all at once was like being thrown into a rapid moving river of boiling water. She had seen images of various costumed novas being systematically slaughtered by some machine. It had become an intense blur and she was in agony for what seemed an eternity before she was able to pull out of his mind thirty seconds later.

"Didn't work out too well, did it?"

_Fuck you, you bastard! I still have nightmares._

"Well," Flynn said as he turned on the device. "As tempting as it is to get some payback on you for what you did to me at Redfield, I really don't have the time, which is why I'm using this antique." He brought the device up to her forehead, pushing the small concave metal dish-like part of the device against her skin. She tried to move her head, but he reached out with his other hand and held her in place. "Ah, ah...as you once told me: 'Quit struggling, you'll feel better'."

_**NO! **_Allison mentally screamed as she felt a dull thrumming sensation at her temples. Then it suddenly hit her like a rush of water breaking through a dam as the world suddenly disappeared into a blue haze and…total bliss consumed her as the blackness descended.

* * *

David watched as Null and Jake placed the unconscious Psyche in a body bag and carried her off. He kept his expression neutral until he was certain they were gone; then he turned to look at Violet who was standing there. "Here," he said, handing the NSA device to Violet. "Get rid of that thing before I change my mind and actually do something nasty with it."

A force-field ball formed around the device and shrank to half its size, crushing the device before dissipating and letting the remains drop to the floor.

"So how much damage did you do?" Violet asked.

"Not much," David replied. "Pretty much wiped the last twenty four hours permanently from her mind and then gave her a nasty dose of amnesia that she should be able to recover from in a month or two." He sighed and looked down at the ground for a moment before looking back up at her. "I don't know, Vi…I came very close. It was tempting to just give in and…you know…"

"I know," Violet said as she walked up and put a hand on his shoulder. "But that's something HE would have done, not you."

"That's the problem, Vi," David said, giving her a bitter smile, "I keep telling myself that people are always going to compare me to HIM and that I'm pretty much just a chip off the old block. I used to ask myself, 'what would Buddy do?' And then I would make sure I didn't go that route."

He brought up his right arm and pulled back on his shirt-sleeve to reveal the sleek ZP bracer he wore on his fore-arm and clenched his fist, causing a faint blue haze of crackling energy to form around his fingers.

"But lately, I'm not asking myself that question much and, with all the shit that's going on, I'm wondering if maybe people like your mother and others might be right about me. And you know what, that scares the hell out of me."


	13. Ch-ch-ch-changes IV

Disclaimer: "The Incredibles", owned by Pixar and Brad Bird. Aberrant, owned by White Wolf.

Author's Notes: Not sure about this chapter, but I had some fun with it even though it's a "filler". Then again, for those of you who know my style, "fillers" usually contain some hints about what's to come. As usual, comments are welcome.

* * *

"_Since its unveiling on Halloween, SST's Omega Console System has become the hot ticket item to buy. Units sold out within hours of being released on Black Friday across the nation and some have said it is responsible for the near-riots that broke out at several Wal-Marts across the US. Despite the controversial debut on October 31__st__, the system has received mostly positive reviews and its very portable nature is sure to make it very appealing to everyone, including thieves who will probably break into your home and steal it from under your Christmas tree…which reminds me, did you notice gun sales have also gone up this holiday season?"_

-Henry "Duke" Rollo, "The Duke Rollo Show"

* * *

_Rick Mercer: "So, let me get this straight. Your game system is affordable…"_

_David Pine Flynn: "Yes…"_

_RM: "Powerful…"_

_DPF: "Yes…"_

_RM: "Can be used as a home computer system…"_

_DPF: "Yep…"_

_RM: "Is very portable…"_

_DPF: "The whole thing can slip right into a grade-schooler's backpack…not that I'm advocating that little Timmy should take this to school or anything!"_

_(Laughter from Rick and the studio audience)_

_RM: "But seriously it's all that…"_

_DPF: "Indeed."_

_RM: "You do realize that you just singlehandedly pissed off the leaders of the gaming and personal computer industry, right? I mean, for crying out loud, you have Steve Jobs AND Bill Gates, their companies banding together just to take you out in court."_

_DPF: "They're more than welcome to try, but I don't see it happening. Unlike Gates and Jobs, I didn't steal from anyone and try to market it as my own. Sadly, they can't make that claim. Now that I think of it, Project Utopia can't make that claim either…"_

-Interview segment with David Pine Flynn on CBC's "Mercer Report with Rick Mercer"

* * *

"_The Omega Console Gaming System…Yes, this is the END of the beginning…"_

-Promo spot for the Omega Console.

* * *

"_Hey, everyone…just letting you know that I've played some of the games for the OCS and all I can say is 'FUCKING EPIC'. First off, the free downloads of all the previous Sega and Nintendo games from almost the last twenty years…okay, some of these games are antiques but there's something just addictive about some of those games. I didn't even play any of the new games for at least a day or two because I was too busy playing 'Afterburner!' and a couple other classics. By the way, the graphics are not the 'home entertainment system' version…these are the graphics and gameplay emulated perfectly from their old-school quarter guzzling arcade counterparts."_

"_Anyway, after going down 'Old-School' memory lane, I decided to play 'Total Tetris Warfare' and played online with Dactyl, Pink Terror, and Sonic-X. Okay, just to warn you, this is Tetris in a way you have never played it before. And here's a warning: if you're subject to motion sickness, I advise you not to play this game. This game puts you in a FPS view point of the game and it is your job to fly around and guide these blocks falling from the sky and put them where you think they should go in on this three-dimensional multi-level construct. This is trippy because you're dealing with a 3D environment and, oh yeah, you can crush other players to death or rig a booby-trap somewhere in the level and trigger it to go off underneath them while they're standing there. It's kind of like Doom meets Tetris meets Mario meets Mass Effect all rolled into one. By the way…Pink Terror…if you're reading this: VENGEANCE WILL BE MINE, BITCH!"_

-Anonymous Post, H-Cove

* * *

"_Pink Terror here. Keep dreaming, Electron Boy, keep dreaming. Come back to the big leagues when you finish growing up…oooh, coffee!"_

-Anonymous Reply, H-Cove

* * *

_**Aeon Building**_

_**Manhattan, New York**_

"So, exactly, what the hell happened?"

It wasn't so much the fact that Thetis asked the question that bothered Ozaki, but it was the fact that she half growled the question in a profane manner. Though he was a telepath, he didn't need his power to tell him that the normally unflappable and stoic woman he knew was very angry. There were other times that she was severely upset, but she very rarely lost her temper in such a manner. She usually approached adversity with a calm mind, reasoned out a solution to whatever problem she faced, and then had that solution executed (which usually meant the quick and efficient elimination of whoever was foolish enough to stand against her).

However, in the last six months, Hideo Ozaki had seen Thetis in a state he never thought he'd see her in. At least, that's what he thought until David Pine Flynn surfaced and, thanks to that idiot Lansing, became a major thorn in Thetis' side. So while this was a relatively new experience for him, he didn't like seeing Thetis in this state.

She was extremely pissed off.

Of course, there were other reasons that could also be considered for Thetis' state of mind. After all, she was fighting a three way war with Project Utopia Director Justin Laragione and Aeon Director Phillipa Lavielle.

The war with Laragione was a relatively old one and more out of a disagreement with policy. Laragione didn't like Thetis' Project Proteus acting as an unchecked enforcer that did the dirty work to make sure Project Utopia's potential was realized. Several times, Laragione balked at what he called Proteus' heavy handed tactics when it came to some matters and he had approached the Aeon board numerous times to have Thetis and her group brought to hell or pulled back. But the parent organization saw things differently and almost always sided with Thetis. Thetis, unlike Laragione, had friends in high places in Aeon who sat on the board and they liked the results her efforts yielded along with whatever political power and influence it got them. In fact, Thetis often joked that her conflict with Laragione wasn't really a conflict at all, merely a "mental exercise of playing a twisted game of Chess with a hyper-active dachshund on LSD".

However, Phillipa Lavielle's rise to power within Aeon completely destroyed Thetis' own power bloc within the organization and, ironically, it was Thetis who put Phillipa in power when she ordered Phillipa's uncle, the previous Aeon director assassinated. In hindsight, it had seem like a good idea because Phillip Lavielle was about to reveal some secrets to Richard Dicker of the NSA. Thetis had no idea (until after the fact) that Phillipa Lavielle was already arranging for a power grab of her own and that removing Phillip played right into the younger woman's hands.

Upon ascending to power, Phillipa Lavielle wasted no time cementing her powerbase. In the first week, key members of the Aeon board retired (only to shortly disappear afterwards), suddenly died from some health ailment, or were the victim of some sort of fatal accident. All of those people were the ones who were instrumental in allowing Thetis to keep her powerbase. With those key supporters gone, Thetis found herself with little influence over the new Aeon Board of Directors and unceremoniously "exiled" to New York along with Justin Laragione.

Though it could be argued that there were other factors involved, Thetis had come to the conclusion that most of her current trouble started when she made the mistake of targeting David Pine Flynn. Reluctantly, Ozaki agreed.

_Flynn was merely a flashpoint,_ he thought to himself. _There were at least a dozen other points that could have caused trouble, but Flynn's actions are the ones that have hurt us the most._

In retrospect, Ozaki realized that if they had left the boy alone, a deal could possibly have been reached. But once it was agreed to release Buddy Pine and use him as a weapon against his son, Ozaki now realized that was a fatal error and that it would cost them dearly.

_Buddy Pine, if my assessment is correct, is responsible for the deaths of over two million people worldwide since we allowed him to "escape". I understand that every worthwhile goal has costs, but this is starting to turn into a butcher's bill._

Though he was certain the body count was at least two million, Ozaki didn't want to think how much more than that was the actual number of deaths. Like Thetis and the others, he was certain that Buddy Pine was responsible for the recent incident in Houston. However, proving it was going to be hard since Utopia's credibility would be suspect since they would be defending the nova accused of the incident. The only option was to go to an "outside" source for help and convince them to testify on Utopia's behalf.

_A deal with the devil._

Ozaki, like Thetis, didn't like the idea of approaching David Pine Flynn for help. After all, he was an enemy, but even enemies could have common goals and Justin Laragione volunteered to be the one to talk to Flynn. Thetis reluctantly agreed, but warmly accepted the idea when Ozaki proposed to have Psyche, one of Thetis' moles in Project Utopia's Team Tomorrow, covertly follow Justin Laragione and infiltrate the meeting.

Unfortunately, that plan backfired and in a big way. Psyche disappeared and wasn't heard from for nearly three days until they found her pumped up full of some powerful hallucinatory drugs, her powers shut down, dressed up as an 18th century noblewoman, and tied up on one of the prop ships of the "Pirates of the Caribbean" attraction at Disneyland. When she recovered a couple days after that, she had no recollection of the last week and telepathic probes yielded nothing other than the fact that someone had successfully managed to mind-wipe her.

"I'm not sure, Director," Ozaki finally replied. "Director Laragione and Slider were unaware that Psyche was accompanying them. Apparently, David Flynn found out."

"But how?"

"Unknown at this time, unless…" Ozaki thought about it for a moment and then nodded as he came to a conclusion. "It's possible that someone might have tried something like that before and he had taken precautions."

Despite her anger at the situation, Thetis couldn't suppress a bitter chuckle. "Paranoid and prepared…it's a pity he's not working for us. He would have been very useful."

"Or he would have turned on us eventually."

Thetis nodded in agreement. "True, but he did agree to help Justin."

"Yes, he did." Ozaki turned his attention to the video screen on wall of Thetis' office that was currently running live news feed from N!Channel and frowned. "But I do not like it."

"What bothers you, old friend?" Thetis asked. Her anger now replaced by genuine concern. "Flynn testifying on our behalf could possibly exonerate us and alienate him from the American sheep he seems to have currently worshipping him. It will weaken him."

"Perhaps," Ozaki admitted. "But there is one thing that bothers me."

"And that would be?"

"David Pine Flynn agreed very quickly and AFTER he learned of our attempt to infiltrate the meeting. The fact that Psyche's mind was so thoroughly wiped beyond recovery of the last week makes me wonder what truly happened at that meeting and what Justin Laragione offered David Flynn in return for his assistance."

* * *

**_Aeon Training Facility_**

**_Chicago, Illinois_**

Phillipa watched the video footage with interest and managed to stifle a chuckle as she watched Artemis calmly decapitate Mesmerella.

"Well," she finally said as the footage ended and the video screen on her wall went back to displaying a few channels of various news networks. "It would seem that our newest operative is doing well."

"So it would seem," Behemoth rumbled as he stood in front of Director Lavielle's desk. "As you can see, she had no problem carrying the mission and executing its parameters."

Phillipa looked at the large nova and frowned. "I since a 'But' in their somewhere," she said.

"It is not my place to say."

Phillipa clicked her tongue and shook her head. "Oh, Robbie, Robbie, Robbie," she said, "you should know by now that, as task force leader, it is your job to speak up if you feel that something compromises the integrity of the team? Are you concerned with her performance?"

"In a way, yes," Behemoth replied. "When it comes to take out a target, I have no complaint in regards to her ability to carry out the mission. However, I do believe the psych-eval team may have been on to something." He then gestured to the empty chair on the opposite side of Phillipa's desk. "May I?" he asked.

Phillipa nodded and Behemoth sat down.

"So what do you think the psych-eval team missed?" Phillipa asked.

"It is no secret what we are, Director Lavielle," Behemoth said. "Beings like myself and the other members of my team are genetically engineered and programmed killers. Our knowledge and personality templates are carefully chosen and constructed in such a way to assume a stable personality matrix. We are clones of other nova, but we are not them…no big deal. However, this Artemis…she is different, she's not like the members of my team or the Genesis specimens." He paused for a moment as he carefully pondered his next words. "She…enjoys her work too much."

Phillipa had to laugh at that. "Seriously," she said, "you're complaining about? Correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't you and your team target a Utopia convoy a couple weeks earlier and, as Velocity put it, 'had a little fun'?"

"Having a little 'fun' cost us our targets, Director Lavielle."

"True, but like I said, you will get your chance at Renard soon enough."

"Artemis' actions and behavior are reckless and could jeopardize my team's security as well as the security of Genesis as a whole."

Phillipa's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "You're not saying this because she's genetically your daughter, are you?"

"Excuse me?" Behemoth shook his head. "I'm not concerned about what she is genetically…she is an unstable element to my team. Assign her to one of the other groups or, better yet, kill her."

Phillipa leaned back in her chair and smiled at him. "You know, I'm still trying to figure out what amuses me more," she said, "the fact that you like her at all or the fact that you manage to keep your hatred behind a cold and clinical mask of detachment."

"It's called professionalism, Director. I want to maintain my team's integrity and I will not see it compromised by some showboater."

"Well, as Director, I order you to keep her on your team," Phillipa ordered. "However, if you are in the field and she does act inappropriately, you are free to rein her in. If she doesn't comply with your orders, then you can deal with her. But until then, she stays. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Director." Behemoth then got up out of the chair and started for the door.

"And Robbie?"

Behemoth stopped just as he reached to open the door. "Yes, Director Lavielle?"

"I mean it, she stays with the group. You will NOT goad her into doing something foolish to justify killing her."

There was a flicker of emotion across the man's face for a moment before it dissolved behind the neutral mask he wore. "Of course," he said, bowing his head slightly before leaving the room.

However, once he had left the Director's office, Behemoth didn't bother to hide the disgust on his face. He had always been grateful that his personality was nothing like his genetic donor because he was certain he would have given into the temptation to punch a few holes in a nearby wall. However, since Artemis had been introduced to their group a week ago, he had caught himself fighting the urge to take out a wall or two in the complex.

"Oh, hi…Daddy!" piped an annoyingly cheerful voice. Behemoth turned in the direction of the voice to find the object of his anger standing there, dressed in workout clothes, her hair tied back in a ponytail, and sipping a bottle of Gatorade.

"You are not my daughter," Behemoth snapped. "We may share some genetics, but that's it."

"Oh, relax, Robbie," Artemis said as she pushed herself off the wall. "I'm just giving you a hard time."

"Only my friends call my 'Robbie' and you, abomination, are not it. You will call me Behemoth or 'Sir'."

"Oh, ouch, that hurt," Artemis snickered. "Okay, maybe not so much." She took another sip of her Gatorade and then set it on the floor. "Okay, big guy, seriously…what's wrong? Aside from the weird genetic father/daughter thing, what's your problem with me?"

"My problem," Behemoth said through gritted teeth, "is your reckless tactics and flagrant disregard for collateral damage."

"Given that your team, out of all twelve Genesis teams, has the highest body count, I find that accusation hypocritical coming from you."

"And you have no right to question my authority."

"No, but I am curious. If we're going to be on the same team, we'll have to set aside our differences so we can work together." Artemis' expression was sincere and there was deep conviction in her eyes as she spoke…then it all disappeared behind a malicious grin. "Yeah, I don't buy that bullshit either," she snickered. "But get real, will ya? You're stuck with me and you have no choice but follow the Director's orders."

"Oh, you are right about that," Behemoth growled. "However, she informed me that I am authorized to rein you in and you are subject to follow my orders. If you do not, I am to deal with you accordingly." Then he grinned at her. "I, for one, am hoping you disobey my orders…because I have no qualms about killing you."

"Good to know," Artemis said, throwing the man a mock salute. "Will that be all?"

"We have a mission briefing tomorrow at noon," he said. "Be there." Then, without another word, he walked away down the corridor, leaving Artemis standing there.

If she were one of the other Genesis novas, Artemis would be experiencing a sense of dread from the implied threat behind Behemoth's words. After all, all the others were programmed to fear and respect his authority. However, Artemis merely shrugged and smiled again.

_Interesting, _she thought. _He knows or suspects that I'm not like the others. Not sure how he found out, but this could be a problem._

Then she chuckled softly as she lifted up her hand and a disc of pure energy formed around her fingers. "On the other hand," she said to herself, "accidents could always happen out in the field."

* * *

_**Salinger Mills, California**_

Buddy Pine sat in the study of the Salinger mansion, drumming his fingers on the solid oak table as he studied the various media windows flashing in front of him on the laptop computer's screen. He was curious to learn that Caestus Pax's trial was going to be in Texas and part of him was saddened by the fact that he wouldn't be around to watch the man get crucified by the court system.

_Alas, I have so many plans…so I can't indulge with something trivial._

He clicked on one window that brought up streaming video feed from CBC's "Mercer Report". This particular show had Rick Mercer interviewing David Flynn.

_However, some things aren't so trivial._

"_**So, David, I have to ask you this question…no…no, eye-rolling allowed here."**_

"_**Oh, c'mon, whenever someone says something like that, I know it's a 'gotcha'!' question."**_

_**(Laughter)**_

"_**Okay, maybe it is but not like you think. Everyone knows who your father is and you've had no problem dealing with that issue when people confront you, but I have to ask you this: Is it true that you have a fear of 80s hair?"**_

"_**You've been talking to Zoe, haven't you?"**_

"_**Well, she was on the show last week."**_

"_**Okay, that's it; I'm cutting her coffee expense account."**_

Buddy killed the audio, but watched the young man's movements as he talked.

_You can see it in his eyes…sure, the emotion is there, but he's always alert, always calculating…Mirage was like that. But the way he moves and talks, his smile…definitely a chip off the old block here. It's almost a pity that I have to kill the kid, but he's one of the few people who could stop me and I really can't have that._

However, Buddy knew that killing David wouldn't be easy. Oh sure, he could storm the gates of SST and slaughter everyone there, including his bastard son, but that would ruin plans in the long term.

_I need you alive long enough to cripple my other enemies, and then I will take you out. Besides, I want to know what you're truly capable of and how far you will go to take out an enemy._

"You've been fairly quiet." Buddy looked up to see Darias Salinger walking into the room, a folder in his hand. "That tells me you are considering a target."

"Something like that," Buddy replied as Salinger offered him the folder. He opened the folder and read shipment times on the papers. "So you're sure about these?"

"Unless the US Marine Corps recently became incompetent, I can confirm that these will be in the convoy en-route to El Toro," Salinger replied.

Buddy let out a low appreciative whistle. "Skylord cruise missiles…Darias, I am humbled by your toys. Then again, you always were better with ballistics than I was."

The older man chuckled and shrugged. "I've had at least two decades experience on you, Pine. I must admit, however, you being out of action for a few years gave me a chance to refine and improve my technology and not have to worry about competition from you."

"Yeah, well, we're still going to be competing, pal," Buddy smirked. "Then again, with most of the other sell-outs gone, I think there will be plenty of business for both of us. But back to the Skylords…I am blown away."

"The equivalent of a Tomahawk missile in a package that is half the size, but packs the same firepower; needless to say, the US Military and PRIMUS were very interested in it."

"Obviously," Buddy said, "but don't you think they'll be concerned about twenty of these things going missing?"

"Oh yes, but that's why I've made some arrangements for this hit." There was a malicious gleam in Salinger's eyes as he spoke. "You see, your actions have allowed me to pick an appropriate patsy. Apparently, due to recent events, Utopia's been forced to pull back on some of their projects. Mexico City has been a drain on their resources and your operation in Houston pretty much forced them to withdraw to their immediate bases of operations because they don't want to risk their standing in the public."

Buddy chuckled wickedly as he realized where Salinger was headed. "And with Utopia pulling back, certain parties might be interested in hitting that convoy. Let me guess, you got a cartel on your payroll."

"Not exactly, but I did leak out information to a local cell of one of the major cartels south of the border and they already have a team preparing to target the convoy. They hit the convoy, take the missiles…"

"And then we hit them," Buddy finished him. "And I can imagine the public outcry from this as well."

"Border security has always been a nasty topic, even with Utopia meddling in the affairs of Mexico. The more conservative elements of the US government will push for tighter border controls and, with a new congress taking power, even President Pendleton will be hard pressed to veto any measures, especially since the attack will be on US troops on American soil by a drug cartel." Salinger laughed and shook his head. "And you can imagine the outcry then. They'll send troops to reinforce and patrol the borders and you can bet that certain elements in the government will use this as a means to further weaken Utopia's influence. But, alas, that is a very large border…and certain 'civilian' elements might have to 'volunteer' to patrol the area."

Buddy's smile got bigger. "Militia groups like, say, Piper's organization? Damn, Salinger, you should try out for politics."

"Pay's not good enough," Salinger chuckled. "Although, I'm curious…once we take the missiles from the cartel, what do you intend to do with them?"

Buddy's reply came in the form of another cruel chuckle as he tapped a couple keys and brought up GoogleMaps. He typed in "Metroville, California" and smiled as an aerial view map of the city appeared on the monitor. "Oh, I dunno, Darias," he laughed, "I was thinking of maybe some more old-fashion terrorism."


	14. Interlude: Holiday Plotting

Disclaimer: Aberrant, owned by White Wolf (until I win the Lotto, then I'll see if I can buy it...but until then, it's languishing in "Abandoned Property Limbo). The Incredibles, owned by Pixar (couldn't buy it even if I won the mega-millions). Zoe, originally created by Crazystick (aka McSlave on Deviant Art).

Author's Notes: Not much going on in this chapter, just more plotting, planning, and some backstabbery (some of it funny, some of it not so funny). As usual, thanks to the usual suspects who have stuck with me on his crazy ride...a lot of names here, but you all know who you are (even that guy in Russia who seems to be the first one to check out the updates).

As some of you might have guessed from the pattern...yes...more ugly shit is about to happen. But, for now, at least for this chapter...some nice Christmas cheer for the crew at SST.

* * *

"_Authorities are still trying to determine who was behind the organized attack on the military convoy and have been silent when revealing information to the general public. In a press conference earlier today, Major General Morris Clayton denied any nova involvement, declaring that most novas don't need cruise missiles to carry out their threats."_

-CNN News

* * *

"_Y'know, jarheads like General Clayton may be a right-wing conservative nutjob war-mongering type, but you have to give the guy props for giving novas the benefit of a doubt. He may not like our kind, but at least he's not willing to jump on the uber-right bandwagon and start blaming novas for everything which seems par for the course after the crap with Pax in Houston."_

-Anonymous Post, H-Cove

* * *

"_So the military is being quiet about who they believe was behind the attack on that US Marine convoy en-route to El Toro in California, but that's not stopping others from doing some finger pointing. Some are saying a faction of angry right-wing militia types hijacked it, some are still pushing the nova terrorist thing, and others are even pointing the finger at some left wing pro-Utopia radicals. Hell, I think my cat might have been involved in it…she's been harboring murderous thoughts about humanity since I took her to the vet for her shots…come to think of it, Pamela Anderson and PETA might be in on this." _

"_But seriously, let's think about this rationally. Since the attack on Mexico City and then the explosion in Houston, what all has changed? Simple answer: Project Utopia's influence has waned. Now, love them or hate them, it can't be denied that Project Utopia's presence did provide some stability in the region. With them pulled back and in retreat over the incident with Pax, the revelation of covert activities at the UN, and the relief effort in Mexico City…a lot of the scum that Utopia quashed out or kept under control have come out of the woodwork. Keep in mind the area where this convoy was hit is a section of desert in Southern California that was known to be a favorite route taken by cartel runners back in the 80s and 90s. Who's to say the cartels aren't taking a chance to expand their business since Utopia's not clamping down on that area anymore? But that's just my thought on the whole thing."_

"_Although, it just suddenly hit me...it's Christmas time and even terrorists need to shop."_

-Henry "The Duke" Rollo, "The Duke Rollo Show"

* * *

"_In local news, Mayor-Elect Lucius Best will be in attendance at an open-house Christmas Party at SST. When asked about security concerns regarding SST and the attempt on David Flynn's life this last October, Mr. Best seemed confident that every precaution was taken. Police Commissioner Frank O'Reilly also stated that increased security measures will be taken, especially since SST's event will be taking up an entire section of Carrington Avenue. The area will be closed to most vehicular traffic though emergency response vehicles will be permitted. Surprisingly, most of the local businesses on Carrington Avenue welcome this event and are planning on staying open late due to the influx of business this will bring them this holiday season."_

-KMET Local News

* * *

_**21 December 2006**_

_**SST Headquarters**_

_**Metroville, California**_

"Okay, tell me again why I agreed to this?" David asked as he stood outside the front door of the SST building and looked at the chaotic activity happening in front of him. He winced slightly as he watched Larry and Ashley lift his Mustang out of its parking spot, hoping that neither of them accidentally dented the frame with their super-strength.

"Because it's Christmas and I thought it would be a good idea to help our corporate image," Violet replied, lightly punching her boss in the shoulder. "And, as VP, it's my job to make your company look good."

"I thought that was Zoe's job as PR Director."

"Actually, that's my job; remember…as part of the contract I agreed to?"

"Oh yeah," David said as he remembered the rather vague agreement he agreed to when Violet signed on. "I don't remember actually signing any paperwork authorizing that."

"Besides, Zoe's one of your lead programmers and she's had her hands full in that department since Shiro signed on with Saunders."

"Oh yeah…but still…I would think you would be the last person to want something like this after what happened on Halloween."

Violet shook her head. She knew she should be angry at David for bringing it up, but he did have a point. "Remember what you said to me back when I first signed on?"

"I said a lot of things to you when you signed on, so you'll have to be specific."

"How about the part where you said that you didn't want to hide who and what we were from the general public? The part where we let everyone know that we aren't some uptight secretive nova organization that wants to rule the world. And, let us not forget the part where we let our enemies know that we will not be afraid of them?"

"Oh…THAT speech," David said. "Keep in mind that was before someone started taking shots at you. Targeting me is one thing, but I don't like putting my people at risk."

"And it's not your call to make," Violet said as she turned her attention to the stage being erected out in the parking lot. "Besides," she added with a smirk on her face, "I think I'm a little bit more resilient since that incident." Then her face blushed slightly. "And flexible."

"Still," David said, obviously still worried about Violet's current condition, "you should take it easy; we still don't know what the overall effects are with…" His voice trailed off as Violet's last two words sank in. "Wait…what do you mean by 'more flexible'?"

Violet's face got redder. "Never mind," she snapped.

"Okay, would this happen to have anything to do with your newfound happiness and zest for life and the fact that you come to work positively glowing after a wild night out?"

"Why?" Violet snickered. "Jealous?"

"Yeah, but Zoe's not legal yet; and I have this aversion to having my soul ripped out, used for toilet paper, and being put back in."

"Aw, that's so sweet," Violet teased. "Saving yourself until then, even though there are other fish out in the sea."

"Yeah," David agreed with a hint of sadness in his voice. "But the other fish is kind of untouchable due to bad blood between our families."

Violet suddenly whirled on him. "Excuse me?" she asked, still not sure she heard him correctly. "Care to repeat that?"

David shrugged. "What else is there to say?" he asked. "Besides, it looks like she's happy where she's at in her life and that's good enough for me. And maybe it's a good thing because, if things got too personal between us, it would ruin the witty banter and amusing friendship we already have."

Violet was floored by this revelation. She suspected David's feelings for her, but she didn't think he would come right out and say it. Needless to say, she was speechless.

This was further evidenced by the fact David was slowly waving his hand in front of her face. "Hello…anyone home?" he asked. "I didn't break you, did I?"

Violet shook her head. "What? No…it's just…I never expected you to admit something like that."

"Well, I can't always be a smart-ass all the time." David's witty banter had returned. "I am human after all…I think."

Violet stared at him for a moment, once again realizing the young man standing in front of her was not like his father.

_And while he may not be his father, he has more of an edge._

Then something mentally clicked for her and she realized what it was that made David Pine Flynn different from his father.

_Buddy Pine was all about pretending and being something he was not. He was not one for doing his own dirty work and preferred to let his gadgets or hired goons do it for him. David, on the other hand, doesn't pretend about who he is and is more than willing to step up and do what needs to be done. He cares about the people he's with because he's out there with them. Syndrome, though he had a vast corporate empire, was a psychotic loner. David surrounds himself with friends and is more than willing to step up for them...though he tends to indulge in overkill on that front._

"You're doing it again, aren't you," David asked, bringing Violet back to reality, "comparing me to him?" There was no anger in his voice, more of a resigned acceptance. "You really should stop doing that, Vi," he sighed before suddenly smiling at her. "If anyone should be second-guessing about me following in Buddy's footsteps, it should be me. I don't pay you enough to do that."

Despite herself, Violet had to laugh at that. "No," she said, "but you do pay me to be your conscience." She then gestured to the people working outside. "And your conscience says that you should be out there helping set things up and having some fun."

"Do I have to?" David mock whined.

There was a sudden rush of wind and they both turned to see what can only be described as simultaneously funny and horrifying. Zoe stood there, dressed up like an elf complete with a pink Santa hat, mocha in one hand and a data-pad in the other. "Okay," she said, "two more volunteers for decoration detail…move, move, move!"

Violet laughed as David slumped his shoulders in defeat and they followed the pink haired speedster out of the building. "David, I don't think we have much of a choice."

* * *

"Someone please kill me now," Jean-Paul Renard begged as he lightly banged his head against the dashboard of Detective O'Reilly's unmarked car. "I know I agreed to help you guys, but c'mon…"

"Hey, no hurting on my rig," O'Reilly said, smacking Jean on the back of the head. "And no whining, I don't want to be here either; but if I do this, I'll get Christmas week off and be able to take the wife and kids skiing in Nevada after the family gathering."

"Danny, you're a Detective. Isn't this kind of detail more for the regular guys in blue?"

"Yeah, but the commissioner figures having some extra muscle down here on the ground wouldn't hurt, especially after what happened on Halloween."

"Yeah," Jean grumbled as he looked out at the crazy scene. The unmarked car was parked across the street from the SST building while various vendors were setting up booths around them. "But this just screams 'TARGET!' to me."

"I see what you mean," O'Reilly admitted. "But we've got a large number of the so called 'boys in blue' out there." He then pointed at a patrol car parked further down the street where two officers were standing in front of it, sipping some coffee. "Those two and about a couple dozen others are going to be going through the crowd, mostly just strolling along the beat. Then you got the sharpshooters up on top of the various buildings."

"Snipers, seriously?" Jean shook his head in disbelief. "Your mayor actually approved it?"

"It's not like the fat bastard had a choice," O'Reilly chuckled. "Mayor Sansweet is still not happy with the black eye his office got when the shooting went down here on Halloween. It cost him the election and he knows if he holds back on the law enforcement now, he'll be seen as deliberately leaving Mayor-Elect Best in danger and he doesn't want that to affect his run for the Senate."

"Shit, suddenly being a member of the mercenary elite sounds a lot more honorable."

"Hey, that's politics for you…and besides, mercenaries like you wouldn't have jobs if it weren't for scum like Sansweet."

"Damn…true." Jean shook his head again and laughed. Despite the arrangement he had made with Lucius Best, he didn't mind hanging out with Detective O'Reilly who, despite being an asshole, was a decent guy. Then again, the fact that the man was a former marine veteran probably had something to do with it. Jean saw the man not as a cop, but a fellow soldier. "So, Danny, if you don't mind me asking, why did you agree to being stuck with me?"

O'Reilly shrugged. "Well, given the fact that my last partner is on maternity leave and probably won't be back for awhile, the option was breaking in a newbie or dealing with you. Some of the others don't like my approach when it comes to perps, and I don't like dealing with some young prick telling me that some goddamn pedophile has human rights and that I shouldn't take my anger out on them when we catch them in the middle of raping a kid."

"You didn't kill the guy, did you?" Jean asked.

"No, but I did kind of semi-drown him in a dirty urinal to find out what he did with other kid he kidnapped."

"Did he give them up?"

"After about the third or fourth dunk, yeah. And we did manage to find the little girl tied up in a hidden compartment between the walls of his apartment."

"Then I don't see the problem," Jean said. "Though, if it were me, I would have tossed the guy out a third story window and said he had tried to escape. The fall probably wouldn't kill him, but it would cripple him." He stopped when he saw O'Reilly smirking at him. "What?"

"That's what I like about you, Bomber," O'Reilly laughed. "Despite being a mercenary, you still have a soul. On the other hand, we ARE law enforcement and, sometimes, we have to follow the law whether we like it or not."

"No, YOU are law enforcement; I'm just stuck here for the ride."

Before O'Reilly could respond, there was a tap on the detective's window. He rolled the window down to come face to face with a pink-haired teen wearing a pink Santa hat. "Ah, the pink terror of Starbucks," he said. "And what can I do for you?"

Jean, suddenly recognizing the young woman, immediately looked straight ahead at the windshield and pretended to be interested in whatever the hell the new nova construction workers were setting up in front of the book store about ten yards down the street.

_Okay,_ he thought, _she's never really seen you out of your armor and she apparently doesn't follow the Bomber's Bay site…so maybe she won't recognize you._

"Well, hello there, Detective O'Reilly." Zoe Kilmarten grinned and then took a half-step back. "Look, I know that you have to play the role of the evil storm trooper enforcer and provide the required ominous and intimidating presence, but could you please move your vehicle about twenty feet that way?"

Jean was surprised that Danny would let the obnoxious teen talk that way, but he was even more surprised when Danny actually laughed. "Hey, I am NOT ominous…I'm the epitome of arrogant badassery."

The pink-haired teen giggled. "Arrogant bad-assery, Uncle Danny?"

Jean's blood went cold when he heard those words. _Uncle Danny? __**UNCLE DANNY!? **__I am soooo screwed._

"Hey, it's true," Danny said.

"If you say so, old man, if you say so," Zoe laughed. Then she stopped and tilted her head to the side as she noticed Jean. "Hey…do I know you?"

"Um…no," Jean lied, managing to keep a straight face when he turned to face her. "I don't think so."

The teen's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Are you sure? I swear I've seen you before."

Danny chuckled and shook his head. "Here, let me help you out before you blow a few thousand brain cells, Spunky." He then pointed at Jean. "This is Jean-Paul Renard aka Bomber…yeah that nova mercenary who has his own video blog site."

Jean inwardly groaned and, for a moment, was hoping that the explosive device in his head would go off and spare him from what was about to happen next.

However, it wasn't the reaction he was expecting. The pink speedster's eyes widened in recognition and she let out a girlish squeal. "Oh yeah, Bomber's Bay! I love that site! Hold on a second." She walked around to the other side of the car and tapped on Jean's window. Cautiously, Jean rolled the window down and was surprised to see the girl handing him a coffee cup and a pen. "Um…sorry I don't have a piece of paper handy, but could you autograph my coffee cup?"

"Um…okay…sure," he said as he took the coffee cup from her. "Anything you want me to put on it?"

"Nah, just your autograph."

Jean signed his name on the coffee cup and handed it back to Zoe. "I take it you're a fan?" he asked, trying to keep his tone casual.

"Yeah, but I really hope you get back to doing the show instead of letting Slapstick do it."

"Hey, Nick's a good guy." Jean suddenly stopped when he realized what he just said. "Okay, maybe he's not a good guy, but he's doing a good job."

"Yeah, but he's a psychotic nutjob."

"True."

"Instead of letting him do your show, you should have him go out after the poser pretending to be you."

Jean blinked in confusion at what he just heard. "Um, excuse me, but what poser pretending to be me?"

"Yeah, there was some guy pretending to be you here a couple months ago. He dressed up like you, but his armor looked really cheesy and his glider-board was a knock-off of yours. He tried to kidnap me, but only succeeded in embarrassing himself before that bitch Firewing blasted him across town." Then Zoe smiled as she remembered something else. "On the other hand, he did beat up Speed Demon, so he couldn't be a total douche bag."

"I see," was all Jean could say. "Cheesy armor?"

"Yeah, it looked too shiny to be yours."

"Ah."

Zoe took the coffee cup and pen back from him. "Thank you very much. I'd love to stick around, but I have to get back to work." She then looked back over at Danny. "Uncle Danny, see you around." Then she vanished in a gust of wind.

Jean sat there for a moment, speechless. _I can't believe it,_ he thought to himself. _She thinks that it was some imposter that went after her and…hey…she called my armor cheesy! That is so not cool!_

It was O'Reilly's laughter that brought him back to reality. "You should see your face," he chuckled.

"Not funny, Danny," Jean half-whined, "and when were you going to tell me that she was your niece?"

"Actually, she's not really my niece, but her father and I go way back. He's an assistant DA and a damn good one. When she was old enough, we used to let her babysit my kids."

"Used to?"

Danny chuckled and shook his head. "My wife got pissed when she came home and discovered the boys were a total mess and a small crater in our back yard. Turns out Zoe was letting them read and experiment with her copy of the 'Anarchist's Cook Book. After that incident, Linda decided it would not be a good idea for Zoe to watch the boys anymore." Then a thoughtful look crossed his face. "I'm still curious how the hell they got that barbecue grill that high up in the tree. I think I'll ask her about that when the Kilmartens come over for Christmas dinner. Which reminds me, what are you going to do for Christmas?"

"Not much," Jean replied. "Usually, I'd go snowboarding up in British Columbia; but having that explosive chip in my head kind of puts the kibosh on it."

"Yeah," Danny said, nodding in agreement, "I can see that being a problem. But hey, I do see a bright spot here."

"Really, and what would that be?" Jean asked.

Danny then flashed him an evil grin. "I'm glad it's you and not me," he chuckled wickedly.

"Fuck you, Danny," Jean grumbled as O'Reilly started the car.

O'Reilly's response was only more laughter as he moved the car down the block.

* * *

"Okay, I thought we agreed that I would NEVER do anything related to the fast food industry," David whined as he flipped burger patties over on the outdoor grill.

"Quit whining," Damon Best said as he smacked David on the back of the head. "And this isn't fast food…you're grilling hamburgers for a festival that YOUR company happens to be putting on."

"Damon, you're a fire elemental. Can't you just…you know…torch the burgers and call it good?"

Damon gasped in mock-horror. "What!? And defile the ancient art of Burgercrafting…I say thee, NAY!" Then he chuckled as he flicked his right hand and a small pillar of fire shot up out of the grill for a moment before dying back down. "The gods of the eternal kingdom of Flambroila are angry for your effrontery, foul mortal!"

"Dude, seriously? Flambroila?" David asked.

Damon paused and thought about it for a moment before nodding. "Yeah…that was a little over the top, wasn't it?"

"Um, yeah, I'd say so."

"Well, look at it this way…would you prefer we share the fate of Violet, Ricky, and Crystal?" Damon asked, pointing over his shoulder at the dunking tank across from their location.

"Okay, never mind, you got a good point," David admitted. "But I think this is Zoe's way of punishing me for something."

"Hey, I volunteered for this," Damon laughed. "But look around you, kid." He gestured around with his arms. "You got a lot of local merchants out here getting involved; people are having a good time, and think about publicity angle here. You're some rich mega-intelligent punk kid who is basing his business in one of the neglected parts of Metroville. In the last six months alone, you and your crew have done a lot for this part of town."

"Yeah, but I don't like doing the publicity part of it. It makes me feel like a sleazy politician trying to sell people something."

"You mean like me?" asked the man on the other grill who was grilling several hotdogs and bratwurst sausages.

"No offense, Mr. Best, but yeah…I think, as a politician, you are doing this as part of an ulterior motive."

"You're damn right I had an ulterior motive," Mayor Elect Lucius Best snapped. "Who else do you think your pink-haired monster originally had on Dunk Tank detail?"

David's eyes widened in disbelief. "Seriously?"

"Yep…so, to be honest, we're better off here than there."

"How did you get out of it?" David asked.

Lucius grinned at the young man. "The way any politician gets out of something," he said. "I bribed my way out of it and found someone else to take my place."

"Really? Exactly how much did you pay Zoe to get out of that?"

"Fifty pounds of Greek coffee…out of MY own pocket, not the public's money."

"And who did you get to take your place?"

Lucius grinned again and nodded in the direction of the dunk tank, causing Damon and David to both look.

"Dammit, Lucius!" Bob Parr yelled as he sat on the dunking bench. "Your turn is coming, you hear me? You're going to pa-" He was cut off as the bench suddenly gave out underneath him, dropping him in the tank.

Outside the tank, Zoe stepped away from the target that she had pushed on to cause the bench to collapse. "Well, I guess the equipment does work," she said innocently before turning back to Bob as he started to climb out of the tank. "Okay, Mr. Parr, I was wrong…there is nothing wrong with the mechanism." Then, with an evil giggle, the pink haired speedster vanished again in a light gust of wind.

David turned back to face Lucius. "You, good sir, are an evil, evil, EVIL man," he chuckled. "Remind me not to get on your bad side."

"Remember that," the Mayor-Elect snickered. "Now get back to work on those burgers."

* * *

_**Washington**_ _**DC**_

_**The office of Senator Arlen Kinsey**_

Arlen Kinsey liked the holiday season. Aside from the fact that it was Christmas and the Senate was due some time off, he actually looked forward to spending time with his family. This year, however, was particularly a good one since he would be seeing a good number of those damn pro-Utopia liberals leaving the Capitol Building for the final time, never to return. He sat in his chair and leaned back as he watched the light snow-fall happening outside of his office window.

_With those bastards gone, we can go about making America great again._

However, he was no fool and he knew it wouldn't be that easily. Yes, his party got rid of some enemies, but only a couple seats went Republican while most of the Democrat seats that were lost went to President Pendletron's damn Libertarian Party.

_Granted, they're not as bad as those damn Democrats and don't side with Utopia on everything, but they don't see things our way either. We'll need to find ways to turn them to our side or cut them off completely. Hmmm…Robert might even be able to have his people arrange a "freak accident" or two for some of the more obnoxious ones._

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on his door before it opened. "Sir," it was his aide, Martin Root. "Milo Arboghast is here to see you."

_Milo_ _Arboghast? Now that is interesting._

After the incident in Houston, Kinsey was certain that he'd be hearing from a representative of the Church of Michael, but he was surprised that one of Micah Piper's inner circle actually took the time to come to DC and talk to him personally. He slowly swiveled his chair back to face his desk and gave Martin a slight nod. "Send him in, Martin. And after you do that, close it down for the night and you can take off early."

"Thank you, sir."

"It's nothing, and Merry Christmas."

"You too, sir." Martin opened the door wider to let Milo Arboghast in the office and then closed it.

Kinsey managed to keep a smile on his face, but he could tell from Arboghast's expression that this meeting was going to be far from jovial. "I must say that I am surprised Micah risked sending you here," he said, gesturing for the other man to sit down in the chair on the other side of the desk.

Arboghast sat down and nodded. "It was a necessary risk," he said, "especially during these days when there are novas who can monitor your electronic communications."

"True," Kinsey admitted with a shrug, "but we do have countermeasures for beings like that. I take it this is not a social call."

"I'll get right to the point," Arboghast said. "I want to talk about the attack on the Marine convoy in California and the hijacking of several Skylord cruise missiles."

"I am well aware of the plan." Kinsey couldn't help chuckling as he thought about it. "Letting them damn Cartel thugs get a hold of them just so your crew can hit them south of the border and take the missiles…I gotta' admit, your Gabriel has some brass ones."

"Yes, and we are certain that Gabriel's plans and execution will work," there was a cold detachment in Arboghast's voice as he spoke, "which is why Micah Piper wishes to let you know where the missiles will be when Gabriel's crew strikes. He wants you to arrange for a small task force to attack when that action is taking place."

"Excuse me?"

"Grand Deacon Piper, while he appreciates Gabriel's efforts for the cause, feels that the man is taking too many chances and needs to be reeled in. He figures that by losing a couple of the missiles, along with key personnel loyal to him, Gabriel might curtail some of his more…zealous…activities."

"I see," Kinsey chuckled, "Piper thinks this upstart is getting too big for his britches and needs a little spanking to be taught his place."

This time, Arboghast did smile. "That would be correct, Senator. In exchange, Piper is willing to arrange funding and events for your convenience in the future."

"That would be acceptable," Kinsey said, knowing that the Michaelites had some very large coffers when it came to campaign contributions. "However I am curious…you specified 'key personnel' loyal to Gabriel. That means that you have a particular individual or two in mind, doesn't it?"

"Just one, actually," Arboghast reached into his coat and pulled out a photograph that he handed to the Senator. "Piper's orders were specific…he wants you to kill this man."

"Who is he?" Kinsey asked, studying the black and white photo of a young man with close-cropped hair and an icy look in his eyes.

"The young man's name is Timothy Vincent Ryder," Arboghast replied. "He is Gabriel's lieutenant and enforcer." He didn't bother hiding his disgust for the young man as he continued. "He used to be a member of the late Theobald Horton's crew, but was more than willing to turn against his brothers to side with Gabriel."

"I see. And you and Piper would like to see such a promising young man killed because he is siding with this unknown upstart."

"We believe the man is mentally unstable and, therefore, is a threat to the cause."

"Get real, Mr. Arboghast," Kinsey laughed. "Remember who you are talking to, I know a power play when I see one; but don't worry, I know where my loyalties lie." He looked back down at the photograph for a moment before setting it down on his desk. "Consider Mr. Ryder removed from your little game of power. He will be dead in less than forty-eight hours."


	15. Scion

Disclaimer: Don't own Aberrant, Incredibles, or PRIMUS. Those are the properties of White Wolf, Pixar, and ICE (I think ICE still owns Champions, not sure though).

Author's Notes: Okay...this is going to be one crazy ride. Spoiler Alert: Ryder's secret is revealed (though some of you already know his true identity. Not too sure about this chapter and I might be editing it (and two others) over the next week to clean them up. As usual, comments, criticisms, and the occasional threat are welcome.

* * *

_**Santo Ramon, Mexico**_

_**Just south of the US/Mexico border**_

_**22 December 2006**_

The operation went pretty smoothly. The intel supplied by Salinger's informant proved dead-on and the team had no problem hitting the cartel cell in the tiny town of Santo Ramon where they operated out of what was apparently a slaughter house surrounded by various livestock pens. Taylor Reece had to give Ryder credit; the man certainly knew his way when it came to leading a strike team and hijacking the Skylord missiles from the Medellin crew. Ryder and the four members of his squad had no problem taking out the nova enforcer overseeing the operation. While Ryder's crew dealt with the nova and most of the cell's lead security elements, Reece and the fifteen others in their group moved in and took out the rest of the cell guarding the convoy vehicles carrying the Skylords.

Once they had secured the missiles and dealt with the hostiles, Reece keyed on his radio. "Ryder, the missiles are secure, what is your status?"

"Lost one man, but the nova security team has been dealt with." As usual, Ryder's tone was calm, cold, and calculated. "The nova team leader is down…" There was the sound of someone screaming epithets in Spanish in the background, but that stopped immediately after one single gunshot. Then Ryder's voice returned. "The nova team leader has now been dealt with."

Reece smiled as he imagined Ryder blowing smoke off the muzzle of his handgun before putting it back in his holster. For a moment, he felt a twinge of regret for what he was about to do, he actually liked the kid. Even though Ryder was four years his junior, Reece was amazed at how smoothly the kid operated in a combat situation. Ryder had no problem killing targets when they were thrown in front of him, but there was something in the younger man's demeanor that was unsettling…the kid was sometimes too cold, too detached, and was all too willing to kill off what he determined to be "weak links" in the group.

So when Reece was privately contacted by Micah Piper and given new mission parameters to kill Ryder and make it look like the incoming military strike team had done it, he privately sighed with relief. He agreed with Piper's assessment that Ryder was a dangerous man and not someone that should be operating as Gabriel's right hand man. Ryder's joining Brother Gabriel's faction within the Church of Michael had upset the balance of power.

_Killing the kid deprives Gabriel of a key resource and maintains the balance of power with the Church. It will also curb Gabriel's tendency to pull off crazy stunts like this._

"Okay, Ryder, have your team secure the fifth truck," he said, "I need you here at the lead vehicle, something's come up."

"Acknowledged, be there in three minutes, Ryder out."

Reece allowed himself a soft chuckle before switching frequencies. He then typed a numeric sequence on the radio's keypad before speaking. "Coordinates transmitted," he said. "We'll be leaving in five minutes."

"Roger that," replied another voice, "we are en route."

Reece smiled again, wishing he could see the surprise on Ryder's face at what was about to happen. "Happy hunting, Rogue Angel out."

He killed the connection and laughed softly as he turned around. Then his laughter died in his throat when he saw Ryder standing there.

"Who were you talking to?" Ryder asked. Though he had no weapon drawn, the way he stood indicated that he was preparing for a fight.

_What the hell? He said he would be here in three minutes._

"Ryder, I thought you were dealing with security detail at the other end of the compound."

"I was." As usual, Ryder's voice was as cold as ice. "I was dragging their nova team leader with me when you called; he had some interesting things to say before I killed him, something about a set-up. I was on my way to you when you called."

"But you said three minutes."

"I lied." There was no warmth in the man's smile. "Now, I ask again, who were you talking to?"

There was a slight twitch in Ryder's shoulder and that was all the motivation Reece needed to pull out his own pistol and point it at they young man. "Don't even think about it, Ryder," he snarled.

Surprisingly, Ryder stood there; but instead of reaching for a weapon, he scratched his chin for a moment. "Well, it would appear my suspicions were correct," he said, "though I was kind of hoping that you would be less obvious."

Reece couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Excuse me?" he asked.

"Your betrayal," Ryder replied with a shrug, appearing unfazed that Reece had him at gunpoint. "Gabriel suspected that someone would pull something like this. I'm assuming that you are in contact with a black-ops team that is currently minutes away from our location. One question…who gave you the order, Arboghast, Torano, or Piper?"

"Since you're going to be dead shortly, I'll just say that it was a mutual agreement among all three."

"Ah, I see," Ryder nodded in understanding, "this is a power play then…sort of a way to keep Gabriel in check then; a very gutsy and clever move."

"I'm glad you're taking it that way, Ryder," Reece said. "And just so you know, this isn't personal for me."

"Good to know," Ryder said as he slowly raised his hands. "It's too bad for you I can't say the same, because I am going to enjoy this."

"What do you…" The question died in Reece's throat when the compound was shaken by a loud explosion. For a moment, he took his aim off Ryder as he keyed on his radio to ask what was going on.

That was all Ryder needed as he suddenly dropped to the ground and flung something at Reece. Reece was pulling the trigger when something sharp hit him in the hand, throwing off his aim when he fired. He barely had time to register the throwing knife in his hand as Ryder scrambled for cover.

"Motherfucker!" Reece screamed as he switched his gun to his other hand and shot at the fleeing Ryder who managed to disappear through a doorway. He winced in pain as he pulled the knife out of his hand and considered going after Ryder.

_No,_ the thought, _the mission can still be salvaged._

He keyed his radio on again. "Horst, give me a sitrep," he barked, keeping a wary eye on the doorway Ryder had fled through.

"We lost one truck carrying two of the missiles; it got buried in the explosion. We figure the damn Medellin rigged this compound to blow. We gotta' get out of here."

Somehow, that didn't sit right with Reece. He could imagine the cartel rigging the compound to blow up if it was compromised, but he figured the entire compound would have gone up if that were the case.

_And not just a portion of it that would collapse on some of the vehicles._

That's when the realization hit him as he remembered Ryder's last words to him; "It's too bad for you I can't say the same, because I am going to enjoys this."

_Ryder…he did this! Why?_

The faint sound of rotor-blades in the night snapped him back to reality and the realization that his crew had only a few minutes left before that military strike force moved in.

"Okay," he said after making a decision, "mount up and move out…we only got minutes before the task force gets here and they're probably already wondering what the hell is going on." Reece took one more glance in the direction of the doorway, then turned and got into the SUV parked behind him. Ryder was as good as dead, or would be when the task force found him, and he had missiles to deliver to a pick-up site.

* * *

The man who called himself Ryder didn't bother trying to figure out what the hell was going on. He knew that Reece was under orders to betray him, but he hadn't counted on Reece calling in an outside party. Originally, he had planned on taking out Reece, and had rigged some explosives to bring down part of the compound on his way to meet the man. What he hadn't expected was Reece communicating with a black-ops unit that was now a couple minutes out.

_And chances are it's a private contracting company and not standard military._

He shook his head in disgust as he took cover in a pig pen. However his disgust wasn't for the current company he was keeping; after all, the mud would do enough to mess with his heat signature and those idiots using thermal imaging would only register the pigs in the pen and assume he was one of them. His disgust wasn't even aimed at Reece (though he detested Church of Michael and what it stood for). Instead, his disgust was for the contracted unit that landed its chopper down by the compound and practically did nothing as the convoy carrying the remaining missiles drove off.

_Obviously, these guys have sympathies for the Church of Michael, which means I'm not going to lose sleep over the fact that I'm going to kill them._

He did a quick count as the men disembarked from the chopper and closed in on the now burning compound.

_Hmm…a total of ten men. We got eight guys breaking off in groups of two, leaving the pilot and one other man guarding the chopper. My pistol is probably useless at the moment against those odds._

He allowed himself a tiny smile as two men approached the pig pen, one of them breaking off to check a nearby shack why the other stood guard next to the pen.

_And these two idiots are the first to volunteer. One's checked the shack, leaving his buddy all by himself…it's going to take him at least seven seconds to get to the point of doing something in reaction._

He reached over and smacked one of the pigs on the side, causing it to grunt loudly. The pig's reactions made the man guarding the pen look over and raise his weapon, allowing Ryder to get a better look at the man.

_Oh good, he's wearing goggles…makes this easier._

The guard relaxed and shook his head, grumbling "Damn pigs" as he lowered his weapon. He was unprepared for the mudball hurled in his direction that impacted directly on his face, completely covering his goggles.

"What the fu-" was all the man was able to say before Ryder leapt out of the pen, grabbed him by the throat, and snapped his neck.

The other soldier came running out about a second after his comrade died. "Jake, what's-" He was cut off as Ryder had fired off a burst from the dead man's rifle, the rounds ripping through his skull, splattering blood and brain matter.

Ryder was already moving before the second man's body hit the ground. He knew he only had seconds as he checked the man for extra weapons, pulling a couple magazines and a grenade.

"Razor five, I hear gunfire, what is your status? Over."

Ryder looked down at the dead man's radio and his eyes widened as he recognized the term.

_Razor? Did he say 'Razor'?_

He quickly went through the man's pockets and pulled out what appeared to be a credit card, but it was solid black with no markings except for a silver eagle in one corner. Inwardly, he groaned.

_Oh god…this is a PRIMUS Razor team…cleaners…this isn't good._

Given what he knew of PRIMUS and how their Razor teams operated, they wouldn't stop until he was dead.

_Or they are,_ he thought as he grabbed the radio and keyed it on. _They're down two men, but I need to destroy their morale if I want to get out of this._

"I'm sorry, the operative you are trying to reach and his boyfriend are unavailable due to the fact they're dead," he said. He then pulled the pin out of the grenade and threw it towards one of the undamaged buildings.

"Congratulations," the man on the other end replied, "you are a dead man."

Then the grenade went off, shattering windows and setting the area on fire.

"Not likely," Ryder said as he crouched low and started to move. "Tell me, since when did PRIMUS become flunkies for the Church of Michael?"

"We do what we do for our country," the man snarled, causing Ryder to grin.

_Oh man, PRIMUS' recruitment standards have sunk low; the man's a talker and easily rattled. If he were competent, he would have killed the connection and just ordered a scorched earth approach._

The whine of the chopper starting up got Ryder's attention.

_Okay, looks like he's going to have his guys go airborne and flush me out…good idea. So I think I'll do something crazy and stupid._

He knew it was a gamble and that any normal sane human wouldn't do it, but the man called Ryder never considered himself normal. Oh, he was sane and that side of him was screaming at him that this was crazy, but he also knew that he had a good chance at making it as he broke from cover and ran for the chopper, opening fire. His first few shots took out the gunner in transport compartment, sending the man sprawling backwards. He kept running toward the chopper as it started to lift off, weaving left and right as he heard gunfire behind him. He heard a couple shots whiz by him and felt a slight burn as one round grazed his arm, but he kept running, his adrenaline and sheer force of will shoving the pain aside as he jumped up and grabbed one of the chopper skids before it got fully airborne. He managed to haul himself into the chopper even as the pilot tried to shake him off.

He looked up at the pilot's compartment just in time to see the pilot turn and point a pistol at him. He didn't even feel the shot as it hit his shoulder; instead, he charged forward, hitting the man in the throat. While the pilot was choking on his crushed larynx and coughing up blood, Ryder pulled him out of the seat and threw the man into the back, jerking the control stick of the chopper to the side to send the man and the dead gunner out the open passenger door.

_Okay, that went a lot easier than I expected._

His thoughts were interrupted as bullets began to riddle the craft, causing him to take evasive action.

_Oh yeah, forgot about those guys._

He looked down at the cockpit controls and grinned as he activated the belly-mounted missile launcher and had it lock onto the men down below. Three seconds later, the first missile hit the area where four men were shooting at him, leaving a small crater and burning debris to mark their passing. The second missile went into the main building, apparently hitting a natural gas line when it went off, bathing most of the compound in a fireball and killing the remaining members of the team.

_Shit…didn't want that to happen, I was hoping for someone to interrogate._

For a moment he pondered his options; the fact that the Michaelites had betrayed him to PRIMUS as part of a power play to curb Gabriel's influence was oddly comforting that his cover was still intact. However, the fact that he just killed a PRIMUS black-ops team would draw suspicion about who and what he was which could break his cover. And as much as he wanted out of this assignment, he couldn't do it now especially with Gabriel having several Skylord missiles at his disposal.

_That leaves only one option…_

He looked down at the chopper's radio and keyed it on, switching it to a frequency that he was monitored by various government agencies. "Exalted Requiem," he said. Two simple words, but he knew those words would find the right ears. Then he piloted the chopper towards the burning compound, waiting until he was about twenty feet above the ground before he jumped out.

The chopper went on for a couple seconds before colliding with the burning building, causing more explosions.

The man who called himself Ryder just laid there in the tall rough grass and winced as the wounds he sustained finally made their presence known. He closed his eyes and mentally took note of his injuries.

_The bullet wounds are negligible, but the two broken ribs hurt worse than that…definitely going to be out of action. Ankle's badly sprained from the fall, but at least that's not broken._

Twenty minutes later, he opened his eyes at the sound of more approaching helicopters. He looked up to see actual Marine Corps choppers flying overhead, one of them veering off to land nearby. Instead of waving at them, he merely propped himself up, wincing again as he agitated his broken ribs.

Ultimately, it was a rather anti-climactic ending for one hell of a day for him. The marines showed up, weapons drawn as he raised his hands in surrender, and they hauled him off onto one of the transports after they handcuffed him. With the exception of telling him to raise his hands and that he was under arrest, none of the Marines said anything to him or to each other except to report that they had arrested "one of the Michaelite terrorists".

The only thing out of place was when the squad leader looked him dead in the eye and said one word, "Requiem."

"Scion," Ryder replied before closing his eyes again as the chopper continued to take them to wherever the hell they were taking him off to. After hearing that word, he heard a couple Marines whisper among themselves for a moment, but he didn't care. Although, he had to admit that he found it amusing that members of the United States Marine Corps were a little concerned when they heard his code-name.

_They know Scion's reputation and I'm sure that freaks them out a little, but they're now being more cautious and probably will shoot me if I do make any sudden moves. Good discipline all around…but what should one expect from Marines?_

An hour later, he found himself manacled to a chair in a detention cell, but he still said nothing. The Marine unit that had brought him in had gone their way and Ryder had no doubt that they would be debriefed and, if the presence of certain men in suits was any indication, they would merely remember they were on a routine training mission.

The door opened to his cell and he turned his head to see an old man in a gray suit enter and stand there for a moment as the door closed behind him. For several seconds, there was silence in the room as both men merely stared at each other.

Finally, the old man cleared his throat and spoke. "You've been very busy," he finally said.

Ryder/Scion smirked at him, something that was uncharacteristic of Timothy Ryder. "Yeah, well, you know how it is," he said. "You fall in with a pack of terrorists because someone orders you to, and then one thing leads to another…then some really crazy nutjob shows up, takes a shine to you, and suddenly, the organization you were hired to infiltrate decides to have you offed not because they suspect you to be an agent for some undisclosed agency but because they don't like the fact that the nutjob guy who is taking over their little glee club of the damned happens to like you and they want to send him a message."

NSA Richard Dicker allowed himself a tiny smile at his agent's antics. "Wow, Tony, I do believe that's the first time in several months that you've spoken that many words."

"Well, what do you expect, Director?" Scion fired back. "I've been playing the part of a dishonorably discharged sociopath for the last year. It just now took me a second to realize you even called me by my real name."

"Well, your real personality is intact," Dicker chuckled. "I particularly like how you just gave your report." Then his smile faded as he said, "I do, however, need to ask about one thing."

"Houston," Scion said sadly, shaking his head. "I had no idea what Gabriel had planned, Director, believe me. My team was part of the smash and grab of the Utopia data-base at that Rashoud facility; that was all. Horton and his crew were the team that was supposed to create a streetside diversion."

"You suspect Gabriel intentionally caused that explosion that took out the entire city block." It wasn't a question, just a statement of fact.

"Don't you?" Scion asked. "Look, this Gabriel guy…I gotta' know…who the hell is he? I mean he literally came out of nowhere with some of this advanced technology. From what I can tell, and what he let slip, he used to work for Arasaka Arms; but I'm thinking he worked for Utopia or even its parent organization Aeon."

Dicker smiled at the young man again. "If you weren't my agent, Tony, I would have to kill you because you've learned too much."

"Wouldn't be the first time you government types killed a member of my family because they knew too much," Scion said, his tone taking the icy calm he had used when being Ryder.

"C'mon kid, you know I was joking," Dicker said. "We are not PRIMUS." He then reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the solid black plastic card. "Which brings me to this little thing we took off you."

"Yeah, a Black Razor card…it allows Razor operatives access to various weapon caches have stored across the US and parts of South America." Scion shook his head as he remembered something. "My father's notes on them were pretty extensive on them…they're pretty much 'cleaners', the kind you want to bring in to just burn anything to a cinder and send a message when subtlety and finesse won't do. I took it off one of the guys that came after me."

"To send a Razor team after you would require a high level of access," Dicker frowned as he spoke, "but now I'm worried about how high up that would be."

"The whole damn organization is corrupt," Scion snapped. "You want answers, take that fucker Kaufman down, or better yet, give me three days off and a decent sniper rifle."

Dicker shook his head. "You know we can't do that, Tony. I know why you want to see the man dead and I can't blame you, but we don't know how far the Michaelite influence goes. If you kill him, they'll just throw someone in his place."

"So what happens now?" Scion asked, gesturing with his manacled hands. "I'm assuming there's a reason you're still keeping me like this."

Dicker sighed and looked down at the ground for a moment. Apparently, what he was about to say next weighed heavily on him. "That's the problem," he finally said. "It would appear that someone leaked out information that a 'US task force' captured a member of the Church of Michael." He held up a hand to forestall any comment from Scion. "We did not leak it out, though I suspect someone at PRIMUS did. As it is, one Timothy Vincent Ryder was taken into custody at an undisclosed location."

"Great," Scion muttered, "now I'm public enemy number one."

"Not yet," Dicker said, malicious gleam in his eye.

"What's that supposed to mean, exactly?"

"You have two options here, Tony, and I'm going to give you the choice. We could make you 'disappear' while in custody, but that would require you going through some extensive plastic surgery, abandoning everything and everyone you know, and living a permanent life of quiet anonymity."

"Oh, hell no." Scion vehemently shook his head. "I'm not going to take a coward's way out and drop it, I've worked too hard for this." Then he pretended to cringe in terror. "Besides," he mockingly whined, "knives make me feel squicky!"

"Then I suppose that leaves option number two," Dicker sighed again. "We truly make you public enemy number one, make a big stink that we're detaining you and that you refuse to talk."

"Somehow, I doubt they're gonna' buy that out in 'Fanaticland'," Scion chuckled. Then he noticed his boss wasn't smiling. "Or do you have a plausible cover for that?"

"Actually, I do, but it's going to involve a lot of pain and a few well placed gunshots."

The seriousness of the situation hit Scion at that moment and, briefly, he reconsidered taking the option of getting out. However, that notion died almost immediately.

_No, I can't back out, not now. My father was slowly murdered by PRIMUS and he took the secret about me to his grave…I'm not going to let this go._

And then, there was the other factor that weighed heavily on his mind that made his decision all the more easier to make.

_Gabriel killed a bunch of people in Houston and, though I was not directly involved, I did have a hand in it. Now that fucker and Piper's little club has over a dozen cruise missiles. They have to be stopped._

"Okay," he finally said after a few seconds, "I'm in. But there are two things I need from you. First, what can you tell me about Gabriel?"

Dicker's brow furrowed slightly and a dark expression crossed his face. "I'm not sure giving you the whole story is a good idea, kid. Believe me, I want to; but if I give you too much information, there's a chance you could unconsciously let slip that you might know who he is and he WILL kill you. What I can tell you is that your assessment of the man is far more accurate than you know, except for the fact that he didn't work for Arasaka Arms. As you have witnessed, Gabriel is highly intelligent, psychologically unstable, and the only things he cares about is chaos and destruction. He lost faith in the world a long time ago and is more than happy to watch it burn."

Scion's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "You fought him before, haven't you?"

"Not me, kid, but others have. I can't tell you much more than this, but he's killed a lot of people in his lifetime. And believe me when I say that list includes a lot of super-powered beings over the last decade alone." The corners of Dicker's mouth twitched a little into a smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. "On the bright side, I can tell you that people in the Aeon/Utopia camp are scared shitless of him."

"Wow, gee, that makes me feel sooo much better," Scion said sarcastically. "Then again, he did…wait a minute…" Scion paused for a moment as he remembered something he said earlier. "You told me my assessment of Gabriel was more accurate than I know." His eyes suddenly widened in realization. "He actually used to work for them?"

Dicker nodded. "Yes, but that's all I'm going to tell you. Trust me when I say that he is probably one of the most dangerous beings on this planet. Do not underestimate him and, while I know he's playing some heroic messiah-like figure, believe me when I say he doesn't give a damn about the so called cause of the Michaelites. To him, everyone he's working with is just kindling to build a fire he wants to ignite and he won't hesitate to light them all up when the time comes."

"If he's such a danger, why didn't you stop him before back then?"

Dicker's eyes dropped back to the floor and his shoulders slumped slightly. In that moment, Scion did not see the scary old "boogeyman" Director of the NSA who knew were all the bodies were buried. Instead, he saw a tired old man who had seen way too much. "Because we assumed he died several years ago," the old man sighed. "The witnesses that were there were certain that he had died and the body parts we were able to locate indicated such."

"Body parts?"

"They saw him get sucked into a jet engine."

Scion grimaced at that and nodded. "Oookay, getting sucked into a jet engine…I can see how it easy it would be to assume he was dead after that." Then he gestured down at his chains that locked him to his chair. "So," he said, shifting to a casual tone, "you said pain and a few gun shots?"

"I'm afraid so, kid," Dicker said sadly. "But before we begin, I need to know what the other thing is."

Scion straightened up in his chair and stared directly into the old man's eyes, resolve on his face as he knew what was coming. "You already know what the other thing is, old man. But since I can't go there…I want you to see him for me."

Dicker nodded in understanding. "You're father would be proud, kid, I mean that."

"So let's get back to work then, shall we?" Scion said, his voice and mannerisms suddenly shifting back into that of Timothy Ryder. "Do your worst, old man," Ryder smirked.

Without a word, Dicker pulled a pistol out of his jacket and fired a round into the young man's good shoulder.

* * *

**_Washington D.C._**

**_PRIMUS Headquarters_**

Robert Kaufman was not in the best of moods when he read the reports. Though he was the Director of PRIMUS, even he had people to answer to. Those same people, namely the PRIMUS Senate Oversight Committee, generally gave him a wide berth when it came to him executing his duties as Director of the organization. Very rarely did they call him to task or curb his activities since a majority of the members on the committee agreed with his worldview. However, lately, there was one on the committee who had become something of an annoyance.

_Kinsey, you idiot!_

Kaufman re-read the report, momentarily ignoring the buzzer on his desk.

_You authorized a Black Razor team to target our own allies and now, not only have I lost an entire team, a Marine recon team captured one of Gabriel's men._

After a couple more seconds, Kaufman pushed a button on his phone to activate the intercom. "Yes, Ms. Blake?"

"Senator Kinsey is here to see you," his aide reported.

He stood up behind his desk. "Good, send him in."

The door opened and Senator Arlen Kinsey casually strolled into the office like he owned the place. "Hello, Director," he said in greeting, a smile on his face as the door closed behind him. "I take it you want to talk to me about the good news?"

"Good news," Kaufman repeated. "Are you talking about the fact that you authorized a Black Razor strike team on our own allies?"

"It was within my right, and something had to be done to look like we were doing something over the hijacking of the Skylord missiles."

"And I agreed with that plan, but the plan was to leave some of the missiles behind to be discovered by an American military unit…not a Razor team. It was to implicate the drug cartels south of the border that allow us to push for the case of having reinforced patrols there." He reached over and picked up a picture of the captured Michaelite. "Instead, I learn that you sent a Razor team with orders to kill this man, one of Gabriel's lieutenants. He manages to kill the entire team, but is captured by a Marine unit. And then, to add insult to injury, SOMEONE releases word to the press that we've captured this man."

"There was a change in plans," Kinsey said defiantly. "The leadership of the Michaelites had decided that Timothy Ryder was a risk and a necessary sacrifice."

"Somehow, I don't believe that Gabriel would sacrifice his right hand man like that," Kaufman snapped as he dropped the photo back on his desk. Then his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Or did he even know there was a change in plans?"

This time, there was some hesitation on Kinsey's part. "Piper, Arboghast, and Torano were in agreement on this."

"Oh, they were in agreement? What of Gabriel, is he not a faction leader within the movement?" Kaufman shook his head in disbelief. "So, let me get this straight, you sent a black ops team to kill Gabriel's right hand man…the same Gabriel who, in the last few months, has killed over a dozen novas and caused havoc in Houston and Mexico City."

"Piper and the others believe Gabriel's actions are a little too zealous and felt that he had to be reminded of his place."

"Reminded of his place?" Kaufman had to fight to keep his rage in check. "Remember back when I told you that Gabriel reminded me of someone?"

"Yes, what of it?"

"I did some checking on the man and, oddly, there is no record of him existing. I then did a check up on the man I suspected him of being and, well…according to reports, he was killed eight years ago. But I also noticed that someone went to a lot of detail to erase video and audio files of him off the net. Oh, there are some news articles here and there…but he's been almost effectively erased from media history."

"So what?" The senator shrugged. "It's no surprise that Gabriel erased most of his previous existence."

"I don't think he did, especially if I'm correct about his identity. And if I am right, then whoever did try to wipe out his existence went to great pains to make the public forget about him."

Kinsey chuckled and shook his head. "Robert, I don't see why you should be upset about all this. After all, who do you think he is?"

Instead of answering, Kaufman picked up a file folder off his desk and gave it to Kinsey. The Senator opened the folder and went through a couple pages, his face turning pale when he saw the photos in file. Thirty seconds after he had opened the folder, his hands were shaking and he dropped it to the floor, a black and white photo of Buddy Pine, the CEO of Pine Industries, landing face-up on top of the folder on the ground. Though Buddy was a little more 'chunkier, his face a little fatter, and sported spiky red hair that stood up a ridiculous height on his head in the old photograph, it was still quite obvious that the former weapons manufacturing tycoon and the pseudo-religious militant figure called Gabriel were indeed the same person.

"N-no," Kinsey managed to say after finding his voice. "It's not possible, they confirmed his death."

"Apparently, he got better," Kaufman deadpanned. "And I'm certain he's not happy with people like you and a few others who bought into his company and took it over after his alleged death." Then a curious look crossed his face. "Although, it makes me wonder why his son didn't try to press his case and try to take his father's company back."

"Do you think David Flynn knows his father is alive?"

"Does he know?" Kaufman laughed, mocking the senator's question. "Not only do I think he knows, I think he might be preparing for a war. And I think Gabriel, Pine, or whatever he calls himself, is planning the same. Why do you think he warned us away from David Flynn? David Flynn, despite his claim that they are just his employees, has a small army of novas at his disposal that are loyal to him…we know that, why do you think we want to get bastards like him registered? I'm not sure why, but Gabriel wants to target his son and, honestly, I'm more than happy to let them go at it. After all, if Gabriel does not destroy Flynn, he will weaken the boy enough to the point that we can finish him off."

"So what does this Ryder character have to do with any of this?"

"Let me put it to you this way, Senator." There was a dangerous tone in Kaufman's voice as he spoke. "Should Gabriel be victorious over Flynn, I suspect he will make a play of his own for the Church of Michael. He already has support from a good number of the rank and file members, but not the leadership. He is charismatic, intelligent, and we all know how dangerous he can be. Who do you think he's going to go after next after he gets rid of his son? If Gabriel truly is Buddy Pine, then need I remind you what happened to people who betrayed Pine's trust in the past?"

Again, Kinsey's face paled as Kaufman's words sank in. Gabriel would indeed want to know who betrayed him and would deal with his enemies harshly.

"Don't worry, Senator," Kaufman mockingly assured him, "I'll cover your mistake this time and try to sort this out; but keep in mind that you will owe me one." He then gestured to the door. "You can leave now."

The Senator nodded and turned, saying nothing as he left Kaufman's office. Kaufman then sat back down behind his desk and contemplated what should be done next. He understood why Kinsey had gone along with Piper and the other leaders in the Church of Michael. Gabriel/Buddy Pine was a dangerous man, an unstable and psychotic rabid dog unleashed.

_However, even rabid dogs have their uses…Pine will target his son and probably drain a lot of the Michaelite assets in the process. In the end, PRIMUS will take down whoever is left standing, getting rid of two threats and consolidating whatever technological gains we can get out of it. But, to achieve that, Gabriel needs to be allowed some free reign and I don't want idiots like Kinsey screwing things up._

He sat there for a few more minutes, mulling the decision. It was not one to be taken lightly and he had considered not carrying it out, but Kinsey's stunt had caused some problems. If this Timothy Ryder had been killed, Kinsey's screw-up would not have been too much of a hassle. However, because word got out that one of 'Gabriel's lieutenants' had been captured, even the fuckers at Project Utopia (with UN backing) were pounding on his door to have Ryder turned over to them.

_Add in the fact that Ryder managed to kill the entire Razor team and that tells me that this kid is dangerous on his own._

He typed a couple commands on his keyboard and brought up Timothy Ryder's service record.

_Ryder, Timothy Vincent…age, 23. Joined the Marines right out of high-school, scored perfect in his marksmanship and hand to hand. Stationed overseas in Okinawa, deployed to Kuwait, Iraq, Saudi Arabia. Involved in some action over there…brought up on charges for 'conduct unbecoming a Marine', which were dropped. Failed a psychological evaluation and was given a general discharge._

After reading through Ryder's psychological evaluation, Kaufman felt some sympathy for the young man.

"_He was diagnosed as a sociopath, showing disregard for life in general when carrying out his mission." Okay, so he was a good soldier who didn't care about collateral damage. _

"_Thinks poorly of others who do not perform up to what he perceives to be the standards required to carry out a mission." Again, not seeing the problem with this kid. I'm surprised we didn't try to recruit him._

"_Shows disrespect for authority figures who he perceives as incompetent or cowardly." Ah…well, that explains things…and the fact that he beat his commanding officer to a bloody pulp…no wonder Gabriel wanted this guy in his crew._

He sighed as he closed the file and pondered what to do next. Ryder was currently being detained at El Toro Marine Base in California. He could arrange to have the young man taken into PRIMUS custody, but it still left the problem as to what to do with him.

_Killing him would be an option but he's already taken out a Razor team, so anyone trying to attack him in prison will probably get killed for their efforts. We can't just return him back to Gabriel because that would be too suspicious…unless…_

He suddenly broke out in a toothy grin as he remembered that Project Utopia was yelling at him to turn Ryder over to them.

_Especially if they think he has knowledge about Houston and might be able to use that to clear their puppet Pax. Well…maybe I should just them have Ryder…I'll even make arrangements for them to pick him up. I might even make a statement to the public how, "despite our philosophical and political differences, we can still cooperate when it comes to justice and searching for the truth". Gabriel will no doubt mobilize to either rescue or kill the kid before Utopia can make him talk…or…Ryder may just kill his captors and make his escape._

"Yes," he said out loud to the empty room, "I think that will do nicely."

That decision made, it was easy to make the other one regarding Kinsey. He couldn't help chuckling as he dialed the number to Senator Kinsey's office. While Kinsey did have authorization to deploy PRIMUS assets, he didn't have access to PRIMUS' deep covert operatives.

There were only a couple rings before a young woman answered at the other end. "Senator Kinsey's office."

Kaufman grinned as he recognized the voice of Senator Kinsey's main aide, Karen Aspen. "Aspen, this is Director Kaufman of PRIMUS. Senator Kinsey is coming back from his meeting with me and, as usual, he'll probably be hitting the aged Scotch he keeps in the cabinet next to his desk." He paused for a moment. "Make sure he gets THE double."

There was a pause at the other end and then, "Acknowledged." Then she hung up.

Kaufman's grin got bigger as he leaned back in his chair and looked at a painting of an Eagle flying off with a rat in its talons on the opposite wall of his office.

_Poor Kinsey, if he only knew that his trusty little airheaded secretary was actually a razor…but alas…most rats don't see their end coming._


	16. Talking among the Honored Dead

Disclaimer: Don't own Incredibles or Aberrant, Pixar and White Wolf do.

Author's Notes: Okay, I'm back...wasn't feeling too well this last month. Anyway...not much here, just a little quiet interlude and some foreshadowing.

* * *

"_Despite our philosophical and political differences, we can still cooperate when it comes to justice. If Timothy Ryder has any information in regards to what happened in Houston, it would only be fair that Project Utopia should be allowed to interrogate him as well. However, I doubt that he can provide any information that could help Caestus Pax in his trial." _

- "Golden Avenger" Robert Kaufman, Director of PRIMUS at a press conference in Houston, Texas.

* * *

_**23 December 2006**_

_**Arlington**_ _**National Cemetery**_

1100 Hrs.

NSA Director Dicker felt his age weigh heavily on him as he walked through the snow at Arlington National Cemetery. He tried not to pay too much attention to some of the graves he passed by not out of disrespect but out of the fact that there were more than a few names he recognized and he still saw the ghosts of those men who died while under his command. Those ghosts accompanied the several dozen others of those he had fought alongside in World War II and Korea.

He paused briefly at one grave.

_**Freddy "The Fox" Cahill**_

_**May 11, 1918 – January 17, 1945**_

He looked down at the headstone and smiled as he remembered meeting Freddy for the first time. They had both run into each other at boot camp and hit it off right from the beginning. Though they briefly served in the same unit together, they had left their mark on the Nazis they had faced, volunteering for what was a suicide mission to take out a weapons facility in occupied France. They succeeded in their mission and the two others they were given after that before Dicker was transferred from the unit. While Dicker was assigned to serve as a military liaison to the Aeon Society, Freddy was to spearhead an attack on Normandy.

Ironically, Freddy didn't die during the conflict; it was after the battle that he died in a car accident.

_Fate's got a sick since of humor, old friend. We went through hell, and it ends up being some drunken idiot running his jeep into you that killed you._

He pulled a tiny flask out of his coat, opened it, took a sip, and then poured the contents on his friend's grave.

_To the good times and the bad times…we went through them all…and some day, we'll look at this and laugh our asses off._

He then gave a silent nod to the headstone as he placed the flask back in his coat.

_I'd love to stay, old friend, but there is someone else I promised to see. And I'm sure you'd understand._

He then proceeded further into the cemetery until he finally reached the grave he was looking for.

_**Vincent "Lone Star" Rydinger**_

_**June 6, 1948 – January 14, 2002**_

Under the date was a single silver star within a circle, the letter A engraved in the middle of the star, the symbol of a PRIMUS Silver Avenger agent. Though Dicker didn't care much the agency itself, he realized there were good people in its ranks, like man who was buried beneath his feet.

"Hey Vince," he said out loud. "I'm sorry Tony couldn't make it, but I told him I'd visit for him." He paused for a moment as he remembered the man he was talking to...a true patriot who was willing to do the right thing, even if it meant a slow and painful death. "You'd be proud of your son," he continued. "He's much like you…same stubbornness and willing to stick with a mission until the end."

He paused again as he remembered Vincent Rydinger passing away in a hospital bed, barely more than a withered shell of a man. In the end, it was cancer finally did him in, despite all the medical treatments they gave him.

_Then again, that's what happens when you go through Cyberline withdrawal…it's pretty much a death sentence. The fact that you willingly took yourself off it pretty much says how sickened you were at what your employers were doing and why you retired. And I understand now why you kept your son's abilities a secret. Unlike you…he doesn't need the serum._

"You were right, Vince. I always distrusted PRIMUS, but I didn't think they were capable of the level of betrayal you accused them of. And I promise you that I will help your son bring them down."

He bowed his head slightly, offering a silent prayer to God that he would be able to keep that promise. Then he brought his head up as he heard the light crunching of snow about a dozen feet behind him. "That's close enough," he said, still not turning around. A subtle flick of his wrist, and the tiny pistol concealed in his sleeve slid into the palm of his left hand.

"Still carrying that old little crackerjack toy, Richard," the newcomer chuckled. "Michael was right, you really are paranoid."

Dicker turned and nodded at the other man. "Jeremiah," he said in greeting. "I'm surprised Michael did not come here, though I notice he seems to have disappeared lately."

Jeremiah Scripture stood there and smiled. "My partner is," he paused for a moment as he tried to come up with the proper term, "is currently indisposed."

Dicker's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "The bastard's gone into chrysalis again, hasn't he?" He shook his head. "Dammit, he's taking too many chances."

"He felt it was necessary because of what is to come."

Dicker let out a bitter laugh. "What is to come," he repeated in disgust. "You know my stand on all this crap."

Scripture nodded. "Yes, and that is why we trust you. Unlike others, you see the danger of meddling with things we cannot understand or comprehend."

"But it hasn't stopped you and Michael from trying, has it?"

"Michael's knowledge, and ours for that matter, is limited by what he has seen in the past and been able to glean from what you shared with us from the information you got from the boy eight years ago."

"Information," Dicker snorted, "it was the scrawling of a little boy bleeding out stuff no one, not even himself, could comprehend."

"Nonetheless, we never tried to manipulate events to the point of trying to take over; Michael has seen the repercussions such an act would cause."

"Playing God tends to bite people in the ass." Dicker shook his head. "But what am I telling you that for, you were a priest."

"And I strongly believe that everything that happened here is part of God's plan."

"There are some in your own movement that would call you a delusional fool for your beliefs, Jeremiah."

"And what is your opinion?" Scripture asked.

Instead of answering, Dicker sighed and shook his head again. "What do you want, Jeremiah?"

"I would like to talk to you about David Flynn," Scripture replied.

"My constant headache," Dicker grumbled. "And what has he done to piss you off? I was under the impression that he was on good terms with you."

"Actually, he's done nothing, though a couple of my associates have discussed ways they could convince him to throw in with our cause."

Dicker couldn't help laughing at that. "Believe me," he said, shaking his head again, "that would be a very bad idea. The kid doesn't like bullies; you try pushing him into joining your cause, he'll probably end up destroying half your organization before you took him down."

"I agree."

"Excuse me?" Dicker couldn't believe what he just heard. "You agree with me?"

"Of course I do, as does Michael, Santiago, Orzaiz, and even Geryon." Scripture frowned as he said Geryon's name. "Though, lately, Geryon's been far more focused on what he sees as a private crusade than for the overall cause."

"Kind of figured he didn't die in Mexico City," Dicker said, "but he hasn't been active…well…at least not in his usually public and brutal way."

"Oh, he's been fairly active," Scripture assured him. "However, he's been keeping his presence out of the public eye since The Church of Michael believes their 'Brother Gabriel' killed him in Mexico City."

"Understandable, I'm certain they won't like it when he does show up again." He allowed himself a tiny smile as he thought of something. "I would certainly love to see the look on 'Gabriel's' face when he does publicly resurface."

"You do know who Gabriel really is, don't you?" Scripture asked.

Dicker nodded grimly. "I do," he replied. "We had our suspicions, but it wasn't confirmed until David managed to force the truth from a reliable, albeit reluctant, source."

"And who might that be?"

"His mother."

"Oh really?" Scripture raised an eyebrow at that. "And how is Mirage these days?"

"Scared shitless," Dicker grinned, "she tried not to show it, but I know fear when I see it. Buddy Pine's return has her running scared. Although, honestly, I think she might also be scared of her son as well."

"Well, the boy has sent shockwaves, that is for sure," Scripture admitted. "Fortunately, those shockwaves were aimed at our enemies but, sadly, I suspect that might change."

"I take it the more 'zealous' factions in your group think he should be doing more to support your cause."

"Actually, I think it's more about trying to build up their power-bloc. Admit it, Richard, you know that David and his people taking a side would shift the balance in the favor of whoever he chooses."

"Yeah, and I already know whose side he's on," Dicker said, "his own."

"True enough, but there are a couple faction leaders with the Teragen who think differently, even though his actions have been mostly beneficial to us."

"Can't you just rein them in?"

This time it was Scripture who laughed. "Rein them in," he chuckled, "contrary to what you might think, we are not some tightly controlled organization where all the various departments answer to one primary head, that's more your style. We have several factions within the organization, some who don't even see Michael as the leader; but they do respect and follow the decisions some of us in the inner circle make…most of the time."

"But with Michael currently out of action and Geryon on his own little crusade, I assume some of the smaller factions are trying to fill the proverbial vacuum in their absence or shift things in their favor." Dicker shook his head again. "Shit, Jeremiah, I thought you novas were supposedly 'above' things like petty politics."

"Novas may be superior to baselines, but they are not infallible and have their own beliefs. In that way, you could say that still makes us 'human'."

"Assholes will always be assholes, Jeremiah, regardless of their genetic makeup. And I'm quite certain that I'm one of those individuals."

Scripture grinned at the older man. "I believe Geryon put it best when he said you fell in a class of your own." Then his smile faded. "I don't know what they have planned, Richard, but please tell the boy that he is being targeted and I'm not entirely sure who all might be involved."

Dicker was silent for a few moments, staring at some of the various graves in the cemetery. "Well," he finally said, "I'll pass the warning along, Jeremiah, but I strongly advise you to tell whoever you suspect might be involved in going after the boy seriously reconsider that action. If they do anything stupid, I will have to get involved and that will get very messy."

"You would actually go after us?" Scripture asked, surprised by Dicker's statement. Then he shook his head as he realized what the old man meant. "No, it wouldn't be to come after us."

"No, because there wouldn't be much left of you to come after," Dicker said, his eyes narrowing slightly. "The boy's like a pitbull, Jeremiah. A dangerous dog, but mostly harmless if left alone and treated nicely. But if anyone comes after him or, worse yet, anyone he cares about, he won't hesitate to go after the leg that kicked them and rip it off right at the knee." His shoulders slumped slightly as he shook his head, a sad look on his face. "Then the animal is a danger and will have to be put down…I don't want to do that, Jeremiah. I like this kid and I think he has a chance of at least helping some of us survive what's coming."

"Then you truly believe that a war is coming."

"I'm no fool, Jeremiah. There are some things that can't be stopped, I know that." Dicker stared off in the distance for a moment before he continued. "It's our nature, every few generations tensions build up and a massive event like a major war or two erupts, a lot of people die, and then the survivors rebuild what's left. I never planned on stopping it, only keeping the status quo on my watch. That's my role in this, Jeremiah, and it will be the role, hopefully, for my successor."

"You believe David Flynn to be your successor?'

"Flynn, as my successor?" Dicker laughed harshly at that. "Of course not."

"Then what is he to you?"

Before replying to Scripture's question, Dicker looked back out at the various graves in the cemetery, wondering how many more bodies would be joining their ranks in the next few years or, worse, if places like Arlington would be nothing but a field of glass in the oncoming conflict by then.

_It's only a matter of time,_ he thought to himself. _We can only hold it off for so long…I just hope we hold out long enough._

"David Pine Flynn," he finally said, "is, hopefully, one of those survivors who will be picking up the pieces when all is said and done."


End file.
